Glimpse of Heaven
by Grignard
Summary: Tags, continuations, and alternate universes (AU's) to Touched by An Angel episodes, because life still goes on after an angel's revelations.
1. The One That Got Away 1

_I have about 11 tags, so I'm combining everything into one compilation. The original one shots will be left for posterity but also reposted here to correct for tense problems and wording._

 _This story is based on the episode "The One That Got Away" from Touched by an Angel season 2. To recap, Doug, Lisa's fiancée, committed suicide after he was discovered to be cheating on his exams in college. Mutual friends of Doug: Susan and Mark are reunited at a friend's wedding six years later with Lisa as the Maid of Honor. Mark is determined not to let Susan get away, but Susan, it turns out, was the one who altered the test so she could get Doug's US Attorney's position. It's hinted that Mark should accept Lisa's love instead._

* * *

The One That Got Away

" _All I said was 'Hi.'"_

" _That's enough."_

Mark Monfort couldn't believe all that had happened within the past 24 hours. He had come to Wendy's wedding, this impromptu college reunion, to make amends with Susan Duplain. His co-workers over in his international practice groaned every time he brought up his ex-girlfriend, the one that got away.

They had parted on such terrible terms! During the three years of struggling through law school together, they had been inseparable. And yet she knew, knew for certain, that the mention of her following Mark to Europe was repugnant to him. Sure, he would have been willing to marry her after a few years apart, while he explored the wilds of international law and she participated in the steps needed for her to become a judge. It would have been perfect.

Doug's acceptance of the US Attorney's position changed everything though. Right after his best friend's announcement it had been her idea to end their relationship. Mark was just another unwitting pawn in her schemes, thrown away and discarded after living out his usefulness.

Poor Doug had suffered the price. Doug Richards, his best friend.

And Lisa, sweet Lisa.

Lisa Magdaleno had been Doug's vocal supporter throughout their law school days, and the man's unwavering girlfriend. While Mark and Susan had their ups and downs, Lisa was the steady rock in their quartet (quintet if Gale was around). Hers was always the proverbial shoulder to cry on. Doug may have been his best friend, and Susan his girlfriend, but Lisa always had a special place in his heart.

Even now after the terrible ordeal, and thanks to the revelation from Monica the angel, Mark could feel a smile on his face through the pain of the bump on the back of his head.

Lisa looked adorable in that awful bridesmaid's vest that Wendy had made her wear. The man and woman were grinning at each other like fools in the swaying car, but the thought at what waited at the front of the train soon sobered Mark up.

Mark held Lisa's eyes with his own, hoping to convey all of the concern he had for her.

"Lisa, you have to come with me, and it's going to be painful, but I promise you everything will be alright."

The dark blonde eyes' widened in surprise but replied faithfully, "I trust you, Mark."

The prodigal son took a steady breath, feeling his heart flutter inside his chest that had never occurred with Susan before.

Making their way to the front of the car, Mark told the train's conductor to call the police while keeping an eye on the proud, cruel woman that greeted the pair. Lisa, ever kind hearted, rushed forward to help the disheveled looking Susan, but Mark held her back with a firm grip around her waist. He could feel Lisa lean subconsciously into his body as the trio waited. How long had it been since she was so lovingly held? Probably just as long as it had been for him.

As the flashing lights of the squad car greeted him at the train station, Mark couldn't help but notice how different his departure had been from his entrance. So sure of righting the wrong of his breakup with Susan, in truth he had only been deluding himself.

He explained the situation to the cops – Susan's extortion of the comatose judge and her attempt on Mark's life, and lastly the woman's betrayal of their mutual friend. Lisa let out a strangled scream at his words, collapsing against his chest in horror.

Mark had a sickening thought. Was this how she reacted in seeing Doug's lifeless body in his dorm room?

He hadn't been there for her then, but he certainly would be for her now. He clutched her to his body, stroking the back of her head with his hand as he whispered soothing words into her ear. He glanced up at Susan only to see not a single trace of remorse in her emotionless eyes. All of their lives had been ruined by her selfish action! But he knew that he and Lisa could pick up the pieces, together.

The police made a note to see if Gale Harper would be willing to talk to them about his case of the suicidal judge.

Lisa gave a watery laugh. It would take getting the talkative man to shut up that would be the least of their worries.

Mark couldn't help but kiss her forehead affectionately. Even in the midst of pain could the crying woman still find time to laugh. What a godsend she was!

The weeping woman sniffled quietly. Susan of all people! Her friend, who had fixed her bridesmaid vest and comforted her after she had had too much to drink at the wedding. Another betrayal by someone she loved.

But there was one who would never deceive her.

The police took away Susan in their squad car after taking down Mark's statement and information. He knew that the federal bench nominee wouldn't be imprisoned tonight. She had the wealth and connections to make bail. Mark Monfort would have a long uphill battle even accusing a prominent figure such as herself of scandal.

Mark felt Lisa shiver in his hold. He let out a soft curse quickly covering her with his jacket. Again, he rolled his eyes at Wendy's insistence of a winter wedding.

He murmured to her, "C'mon. Let me take you home."

Somehow he had grabbed their bags and hailed a taxi, while navigating his old college friend into the warm cab.

"'Computers don't lie, but this one did.'"

Lisa's soft words broke the silence in the car ride and the stupor she had been in ever since Susan's treachery was revealed.

"I thought about it over and over again over the six years since it happened. The test has a time stamp, and Doug was halfway across campus talking with his professors about the US attorney's position. I'm sure that the electronic test system being disbanded soon after our year should be taken into account." Her face was filled with a new conviction. Already the legal jargon was coming back to Lisa like an old friend.

Mark agreed. It was ridiculous. Whoever heard of taking tests without photo identification, a test proctor, and on public networks like the school library?

He spoke to her gently, "You told me earlier, you and Doug could have handled anything together. You always were the strong one in the relationship, Lisa, and I'm sorry Doug never came to you before he took his life. I knew you would have done everything in your power to help him."

Maybe he could be just as useful in Lisa's life.

"Listen," he raised her chin to meet his eyes, "I need to look for a permanent place to stay and get reacquainted with the city again. How about you be my tour guide and I help you with taking the bar exam?"

Her doe eyes widened with surprise. "The bar?"

"Yeah, for Doug's sake. He would have wanted you to be more than a secretary in your father's law firm."

Lisa's eyes brightened for the first time since she had laid eyes on Mark in the wedding car. They had seemed only to do so around him.

It wasn't until he had walked her to her door did he realize he had been holding onto her hand the entire time.

He bid her a tender goodnight, promising to call her first thing in the morning.

Susan Duplain may have been the one that got away, Mark Monfort thought in the ride back to his hotel, but Lisa Magdaleno would be the one he would stay for.

* * *

 _This is one of my favorite episodes. The next chapter is a brief continuation of their lives together._

 _Grignard_


	2. The One That Got Away 2

The One That Got Away – Part II

Was it all a dream?

Mark Monfort certainly was the man of her dreams. He managed to outmaneuver Susan's treachery and uncovered the truth about Doug's suicide. Instinctively she reached for Doug's note sitting on her bedside table.

No, enough. It was time to lay demons to rest.

She took the fragile handwritten note and delicately tucked it deep into the bottom of her jewelry box with her other keepsakes.

 _All my love, Doug, but it's time to move on._

TBAATBAATBAATBAATBAA

Her father, reading the newspaper at the kitchen table, gaped at his little girl as she entered the room smiling, dressed in a brightly colored dress. Gone was the morose creature who had cried at the drop of a hat. She looked… happy.

Lisa kissed her father's cheek lovingly, a smile changing her features into a youthful look.

Before his daughter had left for her friend's wedding, she had been nervous even to the point of backing out. She would be seeing old college friends, each one a reminder of her fiancee's death. However, the promise of being a maid of honor held her to her obligation.

He held her hand and pulled her to sit next to him. "Sweetheart, you look nice today. Did you have a good time at the wedding?"

Her eyes brightened before she let out a half-hysterical laugh. "Yes, Daddy, you'll never believe what happened!"

TBAATBAATBAATBAATBAA

Her father mulled over her tale, relieved to find out the truth for the first time in years. He had liked Doug Richards, even wanted to bring the boy into his own law firm. The youth, however, had aspirations of the Supreme Court and Lisa's father could see Doug had the drive to succeed in his goal.

Mark Monfort arriving on his front doorstep later that morning with coffee and flowers gave Lisa's father the hope that he could still have a son-in-law working with him at his practice.

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The trial was an ordeal, even with Lisa's father's best lawyers at their disposal. Susan didn't get where she was by being stupid. Every single one of Mark's ghosts was laid out in the open to discredit his version of the story. It was no use however. The press had a field day seeing a lauded judge such as Susan Duplain being dragged through the muck. Gale Harper's testimony was damning seeing as how two people in connection with her committed or attempted suicide.

The press eagerly lapped up the tragic tale of Lisa Magdaleno as she took the stand, but the camera lights flashed even more fervently as they spotted the plaintiff leaving the courthouse with a comforting arm around the abandoned fiancée.

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It had been a long year, but everyone that Susan had ever wronged in her lifetime could finally see justice being served as she was sentenced for her crimes. Everyone thought that the young pair would be off celebrating their victory with champagne.

Instead, Lisa and Mark went directly to Doug's gravesite, laying a red rose upon his tombstone.

Lisa spoke privately to Doug as Mark watched from afar. When she returned, he reached out to wipe a single tear from her eye. Kissing her forehead affectionately, he murmured, "No more tears, not while I'm around."

And she truly believed him.

TBAATBAATBAATBAATBAA

The minute Lisa found out she had passed the bar examination, she had excitedly called Mark, only to discover he was already on her front doorstep holding the most beautiful bouquet of roses.

"I knew you had to have passed after all of the hours I spent tutoring you."

Lisa rolled her eyes and managed to wipe the smirk off his face by kissing him square on the lips.

After a few glorious seconds, Mark pulled away, staring at her glassy eyed and dazed, "That was our first kiss," he mumbled.

"And not our last," she answered, pulling on his tie to bring his mouth back to hers.

TBAATBAATBAATBAATBAA

Doug's kisses had been quick and fleeting, those of a bashful youth in their early twenties.

Mark's kisses made her toes curl in her shoes. When he picked her up for lunch, judging from the envious looks thrown by the younger legal aides at her father's law firm (where she worked now as a lawyer and not a secretary, thank you very much), Lisa thought being 31 was not such a bad thing after all.

TBAATBAATBAATBAATBAA

Mark walked arm and arm with Lisa on a quiet, moonlit stroll. Crickets chirped quietly in the night as the pair strolled.

"I'm not Doug," he whispered his insecurity to the cool air. He could never replace her deceased fiancee.

She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder, "No, you're not." And she never wanted him to try.

TBAATBAATBAATBAATBAA

He proposed soon after, and they decided on a small courthouse ceremony, only the justice of the peace and her father as witnesses. After the ordeal of Wendy's wedding and the exposure of their mutual friend, they decided that smaller would be better.

"And it's in June," Mark insisted, a joke which his bride found to be outrageously funny.

He thought no one he knew had been present to see his and Lisa's happy day, but a woman's deep voice whispering, "Hallelujah" caused him to whip his head around. A flash of long reddish-brown hair and a handsome man's congratulatory smile in the crowd... Mark jogged his way through the throng of people only to gaze with wonder at the object resting at his feet. He picked up the item reverently presenting the gift to his new wife.

Lisa cooed over the figurine: a pair of pure white, ceramic doves curled around each other, with the names "Mark" and "Lisa" inscribed on each.

"Who gave these to you?"

"Someone who told me to share my heart with someone who knows how to love."

TBAATBAATBAATBAATBAA

Gale Harper finally bit the bullet and decided to marry his photographer girlfriend, Dolores. Each finery and bauble at his wedding was presented and displayed for all to see. _Look at how successful my law firm is!_ he wanted to shout. A beautiful bride, a successful practice, was there anyone who was luckier than he?

A sleek black car drove up outside the venue parking itself smoothly in front of Gale. A familiar man stepped out.

"Well lookie here, Mark Monfort!"

Gale had to bite back a groan. The man before him still had a full head of hair and a svelte figure. Gale had been thinning a little at the top and putting on a few pounds at his waistline, but his old college friend still looked the same.

Actually he looked better than when Gale last saw him at the trial of the century. Mark was relaxed, carefree, even grinning happily. He shook Gale's grip with a firm hand before releasing it quickly to walk to the passenger side of the car.

Mark opened the door before easing a woman carefully out from the passenger seat.

Gale's eyes bugged as he saw Lisa Magdaleno (make that Lisa Monfort) heavily pregnant appear beside the taller man. In his naïve college days, Gale had questioned the odds that everyone in their study group would marry each other. He would have never bet on Lisa and Mark tying the knot.

The couple gazed lovingly into each other's eyes before realizing they had an audience. The accident and personal injury lawyer could see her reflexively rub her heavy belly with her left hand, at the same time flashing a gorgeous 2 carat diamond ring.

So maybe there was somebody luckier than him.

TBAATBAATBAATBAATBAA

The nurse carefully placed the sleeping baby into Lisa Monfort's arms. The father, Mark Monfort, laid a kiss delicately on the child's forehead. The babe cooed and slipped further into deeper slumber.

Addressing the new parents, the nurse smiled seeing the love they had for each other evident in the new trio.

"Have you decided on a name for your son?"

"Doug. His name is Doug."

* * *

 _I am_ obsessed _with this episode. Maybe because it's a handsome protagonist finding love with the broken girl, or it's the first appearance of the Angel of Death, Andrew (who was always very eye-catching), but I had to write a tag, or post-credits scene, to this wonderful show. Since I'm binge watching Touched by an Angel, there will be more tags to follow._

 _Please review,  
Grignard_


	3. Show Me The Way Home

Show Me the Way Home

" _It's the best I can do in short notice."_

Peter Enloe makes it into major league baseball, but blows out his right ACL just before turning 33. It's alright though because his momma's smart, they still have the sports bar, and between them they invested enough money for them to live comfortably.

Peter still needs a job.

He goes home for a spell and on a whim goes to one of his old high school's baseball games.

They're… ok.

The pitcher could work on his arm a little more, and the first baseman's grip on the bat is shaky, but Peter sees plenty of improvement. He petitions his old school the very next day.

Granite Hills High School is thrilled to have him as a coach of course. An alumni and former pro-player, Peter offers a wealth of wisdom for public school cost. Surprisingly he finds himself teaching English when he's not on the field. He had always loved the effectiveness of the spoken word. It could inspire one to fight back against injustice in the world, or to offer the most heartfelt of apologies.

The smell of fresh cut grass, the dull thud of a baseball falling into a mitt, the words of his former high school coach echoed in his ear during every major league game he played and every day afterwards. "I need a team of fighters, not crybabies!"

Coach Earl Rowley.

The man who shaped his entire adulthood passed away from pancreatic cancer the same day Peter won the most important game of his life. He hated the man, but loved him as a father at the same time.

The former pro athlete read up on his old mentor and understood why the man became so harsh. When Coach was not much older than him, he had already been fighting in a war half a world away. Coach Rowley received his purple heart at the cost of his baseball career, and raged against the whims of the pitiless world by forcing him into a dead-end job in this one horse hometown. His baseball game was a war field, where the weak died and only the strong survived.

Peter's life is different though. He chose to come back, even though he could have traveled and coached at a more elite and well-paid position. He knew just the right balance between encouragement and sternness. Different players required different teaching styles, not just the cruelty of Coach Rowley or the tenderheartedness of Coach Monica.

TBAATBAATBAATBAATBAA

The years passed on. With Peter's coaching, the school's baseball team won a few division titles, but most importantly, he mentored a few gifted students – both on and off the field.

He is what Coach Rowley should have been thirty years ago.

Some kids went on to have successful baseball careers, but others became lawyers and social workers fighting for the betterment of their peers. Peter's just as proud of the latter. Always he sought to improve the youth around him. Fatherless sons with working mothers and broken homes, he counseled them all because he knew the difficulty of growing up in that environment.

He's getting old. His joints hurt, and he can't see as clearly, but he can still knock one out of the park. The school hosted his retirement party, and he got to personally see a former student of his take over as baseball coach. Everything comes full circle.

TBAATBAATBAATBAATBAA

He's been musing on the blessing that Coach Monica (God, what looker) had offered him when he was young and in the prime of his life.

 _"May the road rise before you_

 _May your swing be straight_

 _May the ball fly high and far_

 _And may God himself bring you home._

Peter Enloe napped quietly at home. His wife died a few years back and his children promised to visit with the grandkids, but their worried looks signal the inevitable.

Soft as a whisper, "Home, come home, kid."

He opens his eyes. A handsome, long haired man with an easy smile takes his hand and helps him up. There is no pain, no sudden implosion. The years fall away and he is eighteen again. Peter recognizes the Angel of Death but feels no fear, because behind the figure is a man in a familiar red baseball uniform.

Coach Rowley stands with a proud smile on his face, just the same as when Peter slid into home plate during that momentous game.

"You better have taken good care of my bat, Peter. There's a game waiting on you."

* * *

 _I really like this one's revelation where Monica was the one who helped Coach Rowley back in the war. The ending was very comforting too._


	4. Jacob's Ladder

Jacob's Ladder

" _Give him your future too. He'll make you strong enough to live it."_

Mei Ling remembered the red hue of the lucky _lì xì_ envelopes that were always warmly handed out by the elders, and the snap of the firecrackers as she and her family celebrated the Lunar New Year.

The sky was engulfed in tongues of orange as men with guns burned the rice paddies and thatched homes of their kinsmen. The Perfume River was on fire.

Yellow was the color of the nurse's hair that comforted Mei Ling as she was brought into the American base in Saigon. At first the foreign language and faces terrified her but the smiles eased her worry. That and the chocolate of course.

Green comprised the soldier's uniform, many of them not much older than boys, but they teased her, gave her cookies and called her "May Day" as she ran amongst them. She and the other children often clamored around them patting their pockets for candy. Her favorite was a dark skinned soldier called Jacob. His hair was curly and she loved to play with it. The little ones captured the men's hearts with their innocence and gave a face to the terrible war they were fighting.

A yawning, empty blue sky was the only terrible thing she saw as she was falling hundreds of feet from the helicopter with Jacob's desperate hand reaching out to her. He had promised her sweets, cartoons, but most of all a loving home with him, but now she was going to die. A rush of air (a brush of wings?) and suddenly she was caught into _thiên sứ_ Claire's strong arms. Her hope flew away with the last American soldier.

After the men with guns took her away, Mei Ling is adopted by the Gustersons. The first thing she is presented with at the airport where they meet her is a purple stuffed animal. Her new family is loving but still she wonders about Jake and Claire. Chicken noodle soup replaces phở, Cinderella is saved instead of Tam, Mei Ling's life is spent exploring this brave new world.

Years passed. She is grown now, inspecting the brown walls of the home for abused and orphaned children at 801 Cedar St. Jacksonville, Florida. The young executive director hoped to provide the same love to the young ones that had been given to her during her childhood in a ravaged homeland. She knew the joy that a smile could bring to a terrible situation, but today is a happy day. She's told there's a surprise waiting for her downstairs.

An African American woman with more grey hair than black is beckoning her downstairs. There is a soft lilt of a lady's laughter. Was that an Irish accent? Mei Ling turns the corner and sees a sight of a thousand dreams.

Mei Ling Gusterson sees nothing through the blur of her tears, but would recognize the man standing before her no matter how many years had flown by. It was a miracle, a genuine miracle, she thought as she embraced Jake the soldier. Jake the lawyer now spends his days defending others in a courtroom rather than on a battlefield, and he couldn't be more proud of his May Day.

* * *

 _For this one, colors came easily as a theme. What really struck me about this episode was the look of pure joy on his face when he found out that Mei Ling was alive and the one in charge of the new children's shelter._

 _More to come. Please review,_

 _Grignard_


	5. Operation Smile Fallen Angela

_I'm about halfway through season 6. Got lots of ideas floating around, but I'm welcomed to write about your ideas._

* * *

Operation Smile, combined with Fallen Angela

Jeremy enlists in his local ROTC the moment he is of age. He knows he doesn't have much going for him since he was what the other well off kids call "trailer trash." His parents barely make enough to pay for food on the table, but he wants a life out of Paradise Park. The army is a way to make that happen, and if they provide for a college education, well, he'd be heads above any member of his family in that aspect.

As the bus traveling out to boot camp leaves town, he was fondly sent off by a surprising amount of well-wishers. First, his parents. They may not have provided him with the most state of the art electronics or the trendiest clothes, but they were always there for him when he needed them most.

Albert Turner grudgingly hands him an envelope of money. "It's a portion from all those times you collected newspapers and cans for me. I figured you might need it one day." The man always had a heart of gold.

The last person to say goodbye to is the hardest.

Twelve year old Emily is like a gangly colt, growing like a weed with every passing day. She's come a long way from the shy five year old with a cleft palette. They'd been neighbors ever since she and her mother moved to the park and never been apart for a day. He thinks his love of reading came from sharing books with her all those years ago.

It would be difficult to leave her. Who would he speak to of his insecurities, and who would chase away the bullies who dared to abuse her? He would have to leave that up to God and the angels who drove in red convertibles.

"I promise to write you every day," Emily swears, her dark eyes filled with tears. Jeremy towers over her, but he bends down to hold her in a heartfelt hug.

"I'll be back before you know it," and with that said, Jeremy boards the bus with a smile. He holds Emily's eyes with his own until he can't see her anymore.

TBAATBAATBAATBAATBAA

True to her word, they write religiously trading anecdotes on their day to day lives. Jeremy's is mostly boring with basic training, but his college coursework proves interesting. He wants to be a counselor at a hospital or even a volunteer at Operation Smile in a few years. He thinks of other mothers like Ginger, who even though they love their children, were too naïve or ashamed to seek help for their children. Emily had never seen a sun rise during her first five years of existence. He wants to put the smile he remembered seeing on her face onto other needy kids.

Emily's mom was getting better though. Angela Evans, a US Senator's wife personally invited Ginger to her outreach program though the two women were miles apart. Designed to help women escape their pimps and other unwanted professions, Ginger quit stripping at the Temple of Venus and was studying for her two-year associate degree. She managed to outscore Emily, much to the young girl's chagrin.

Jeremy finishes basic training while he completes his courses for college. After his college graduation (two words he thought would never apply to himself), he spends four years in service to the Army. All and all the army wasn't any different than his life before. Small living quarters and lots of yelling, but the boys around him prove to be good friends.

Well, when they weren't meddling in his personal life.

Emily sends Jeremy her prom picture, and he keeps it tucked into his wallet.

"Who's that?" his roommates ask as they clamor around the photo.

His best friend's grown to become a beautiful young woman. She's not her mother's daughter without getting some of her beauty. All legs and with a winsome face, her only flaw is a small scar on her upper lip.

"I got it from a hot air balloon ride," she often jokes to the other kids.

She changes boyfriends every year or so, but doesn't make the same mistakes her mother did. Ginger had sat Emily down and explained her whole sordid past to her little angel - the drugs, the booze, and the boys.

Jeremy gives the same glare to his bunkmates that he gives to other boys who ogle Emily.

"She's my best friend," he starts to say.

One of his roommates interrupts. "Best friend? From the way you talk about her, she sounds like your girlfriend."

All of the other boys nod agreeing with the speaker.

Jeremy wants to explain the same reasons why Emily isn't his girlfriend for the umpteenth time – the six year age gap, their long-time friendship, her inability to stay in a relationship, but he just closes his mouth instead. The words seem strangely hollow after all of these years. Maybe it was just his heart.

Emily writes to him saying she broke up with another boyfriend again. None of them understand her, not like Jeremy does.

The young man takes pen to paper and writing in a stream of consciousness, he details what he would do if he were her boyfriend. Jeremy would hold open every door for her, share his bowl of precious ice cream, and most importantly encourage her to try despite the odds. After all, he writes, he knows she's brave enough to face any challenge. For heaven's sake, she trusted him enough to jump into the back of a moving truck and a hot air balloon at five years old!

He doesn't think about her response because the next few days are filled with the flurry of packing for the trip home. Jeremy has a job lined up already. He's grateful that he's staying in his hometown.

"Hey Jeremy! Mail call!" a supervisor shouts.

The man catches the thin envelope one handed, not bothering to open the contents of the letter until he's on the bus home.

His hands are shaking after he reads the single sentence written down.

 _Then be my boyfriend._

Thoughts tumble and stutter in his mind, but Jeremy takes hold of the kernel of hope with both hands. Emily and him? He dated a few girls briefly, but with the school coursework and his duties, it's hard to find the time. Emily is his one constant, and the age old concerns he continuously voiced evaporate like morning dew. If he could see that same beautiful smile she gave the day she saw the sun rise for the first time directed at him, he'd truly be a happy man.

The bus rumbles to a stop and a crowd bigger than when he left greets his eyes. Jeremy sees his parents, Emily's mother, and the girl herself waiting to welcome him home. Emily's 20 years old now, confident and lovely, but her eyes are bashful as they meet his when he steps off the bus.

He holds up her letter and mouths, "Yes," and she's off like a shot.

Catching her in mid-air, the girl wraps her legs around his waist and loops her arms around his neck.

She smiles at him, accentuating the slight scar, and plants a firm kiss on his surprised mouth.

His roommates roll their eyes as they see the sight, "Just friends… right."

* * *

 _I had trouble using the right verb tense in this oneshot. For some reason it felt natural to write in the present tense than past._

 _Thoughts and ideas?_

 _Grignard_


	6. Flesh and Blood

_Originally written before I saw the continuation of this episode in Season 5's Full Circle, I didn't to change it even after I saw what a scumbag Tommy turned into. Seriously, who brings a kid to a drug deal?_

* * *

Flesh and Blood

" _You two are more alike than you are different. You both have suffered much pain."_

Leonard Page thought that after surviving the first trial the second would be easier. In fact, it was probably worse knowing that each and every accusation he had made earlier should have been directed at the delinquent sitting a few rows in front of him.

The two men were so similar in height and build! Why didn't Tommy help his daughter when he had the chance? Why did he let Megan die?

No, the angel had told him not to dwell on what ifs. His daughter was in better hands, and if he wanted to see her again, he'd have to put the anger and bad thoughts behind him.

He had been alone before, he was alone now.

Or was he?

A comely woman dressed in a worn dress approached the chairs reserved for visitors gingerly sitting herself down. Sitting so close to the edge of her seat, he guessed she was preparing to bolt at a moment's notice.

Wait. That was Tommy's mother.

What was Kate Prescott doing here?

But she was here and she was a familiar face besides his lawyer. He gave a tentative smile and waved her over to the empty seat beside him. She returned the gesture with relief. Their tear filled revelation that one night was one thing but today was another day entirely.

The trial was quicker this time and though the defendant had confessed to the deed, the jury was new. Each and every single detail of the murder was laid out again, the brutality of the crime, the callousness of the execution. He choked back tears as a photo of his daughter's corpse was shown.

He couldn't take it, not again. The world was spinning and he felt it darken, but a firm hand took his shaking one. It was a quick gesture, one of comfort and platonic affection. It gave him strength to last the long day.

The trial adjourned for the time being, but he found himself unwilling to part from his unexpected comforter.

"Come to my house... please" he added as an afterthought.

Mrs. Prescott reluctantly nodded and got into his sleek sedan. Always she saw the differences in their stations. Where he drove, she had to wait in the cold for the bus. His picturesque mansion was situated in the nice part of town in comparison to her shabby house across the bad part of the tracks. Megan had been excelling in college while Tommy barely hung onto a minimum wage gas station job.

If she had raised her son in these circumstances would he have turned out the way he has? If their situation were reversed, would his daughter been the one caught stealing?

Megan's necklace was wrapped around her wrist like impromptu prayer beads. It brought her comfort in the quiet nights since Tommy left, but then again he had often been away from home. Leonard Page was only just starting to cope with the empty nest, and his house echoed the love for his child. Proud pictures and awards littered every surface.

"She was my pride and joy." His wife had died early on and Megan was all he had.

"Tommy wasn't the best of children, but he was my son." Her husband was a bum and left their lives as soon as he could.

Mrs. Prescott bet Mr. Page never had to shove and scream at his darling daughter. They spoke of random stories about their children. The father knew the woman was staying only to distract him, giving him something to take his mind off of the second trial.

She wrung her hands together in agony as she uttered her worse fears, "I defended him with every fiber of my being. I couldn't think that he could kill Megan. I thought I knew my son."

Maybe… maybe murder would have been the next step in his slow slide into delinquency. First, being present at the site of a vehicle theft then petty larceny, the evil within him could only escalate. Her son left the body of Megan Page in a pool of her own blood, only to rob the poor girl of her sentimental jewelry. Was that not as evil as pulling the trigger himself?

And she had abandoned him in his lowest hour, refusing to allow him to even call her his mother anymore. The intervention of an angel was the only thing that turned him around, not her love. Monica had said that Kate was an imperfect person and that only faith would carry her through, but it was so hard.

Mr. Page gave the woman a look of pity. No parent wanted to believe the worse in their child. He could see the pain in the woman's eyes when she gave the interview acknowledging her son's guilt on national television, but all the man could think about at the time was how justice could finally be done.

"I started the witch-hunt for your son. Encouraged it when I should have trusted in justice," Mr. Page admitted.

 _These things happen for a reason. She's in a better place now._

Those words were the worse things to say to a grieving father.

Even after Mrs. Prescott's revelation of Tommy's lesser guilt, all of the hate and pain within him continued to roil and crash like a turbulent ocean.

Tess had said it would never end, the fear, the anger, it was an all-consuming poison. Forgiveness was the antidote.

He had forgiven Tommy's heinous deed. He had sought Mrs. Prescott's forgiveness, and when he was absolved, suddenly the guilt of leaving Megan to her death lifted. He would try to help Mrs. Prescott forgive herself and reach that same salvation.

TBAATBAATBAATBAATBAATBAA

The sensational trial ended with a guilty verdict for the true murderer, but the plaintiff did not gloat or crow with satisfaction. He only gave a subdued interview to the news cameras.

"What changed Mr. Page?" the reporter questioned.

"None of this will bring my baby back, and she wouldn't want to see me that way."

He had admitted as such to Mrs. Prescott in private. Megan would have been horrified to see her father's fanatical reaction to her death.

Mrs. Prescott thought that would be the end to their strange friendship now that the trial was over. Megan's father would probably want to put the whole ordeal behind him as soon as he was able.

But he didn't.

He called a service to fix her broken window and re-patched the bullet ridden walls himself. She in return made him a couple of homemade meals in thanks. The two found it easier when a meal was for two than for one. Mr. Page offered to send out channels to look for Tommy, but Mrs. Prescott politely declined.

"Tommy wanted to find his own path."

TBAATBAATBAATBAATBAA

No one knew who had the bigger shock five years later, when Thomas Prescott returned to his childhood home.

Tommy, for realizing the man drinking tea with his mother was the father of the girl he had been accused of murdering oh so long ago.

His mother, for seeing her prodigal son returned home, with a stable job and a loving wife in tow.

Or Mr. Page upon holding Tommy's baby daughter in his arms, a little girl named Megan.

 _You'll hold your little girl in your arms again someday._

It wasn't quite the same, but it was as close as God intended on this good earth.

As the baby babbled in his arms, Mr. Prescott could not help but think as the happiness within him rose like the sun from behind cloudy skies, "To err is human, and to forgive divine."

* * *

 _Ugh, dirtbag Tommy Prescott. Of course your mother didn't believe you. He stepped over a girl's body to steal her jewelry! What if she was still alive? She could have been saved if he called for an ambulance beforehand. I like the twist with Sally Jessy Raphael being his new angel, hence his full redemption in my story. It was harder believing that Leonard Page should just forget about his anger and pain over his daughter's death, but I understand stewing over it was wrong._

 _Haha, sorry for the long rant. More writings to follow,  
Grignard_


	7. Joyful Noise

Chapter 7

Joyful Noise

" _She has seen beauty ever since."_

Melissa sat back gazing at her sheet music, huffing up her blonde bangs with a sigh. Its half-finished state glared mockingly back at her. It was supposed to be her final for her composition course at Julliard! She promised an original work, something to blow her professors right out of the water. The only problem was that writer's block was rearing its ugly head and nothing was getting her unstuck. She's gone out for a long run, drank buckets of coffee, she even stood on her head!

She groaned by the piano in the undergraduate practice room. There were plenty of unoccupied rooms to spare in the elite conservatory for the performing arts. Her mother had been especially proud that she had gotten in.

The slight blonde couldn't imagine a day without music.

She had been in the choir since elementary school and had been one of the better voices amongst the grade-schoolers, but that may have been due to their inept teacher. Soon after, Melissa graduated to piano and even dabbled in the flute for a year. Miss Cassie had been a good teacher, but the flute didn't call to her like it did to the motherly brunette. The woman often mentioned the exploits of her daughter, growing up beautifully with her adoptive parents.

Melissa had learned many things from Miss Cassie, much more about life than music. The flautist leaned close to give the girl an affectionate hug after her final lesson. "Don't ever lose your music."

The young girl had nearly lost her gift during the worst period of her life. Dr. Adam and her mother had been convinced she had been hearing voices and of course that meant she was certifiable. They wouldn't even let her speak alone with her baby brother for fear of harming him.

That was dumb. She loved her little brother, though he could sometimes be annoying. She roughly ran a hand through her long locks of hair. It was partly in dedication to him that she wanted to write this piece. He had long stopped hearing the angels. She had too, but on some quiet nights when the earth was still, Melissa could sometimes hear a whisper of their song.

She wanted to write something that sounded like the heavenly tune. Sure it would only be a shadow of the true melody, but at least it would be a glimpse of truth and brightness.

Unfortunately her muse wasn't cooperating with her.

She paced back and forth idly plinking out the tune to Beethoven's Fur Elise. She could almost hear the angels clearly right now. The choral voices, the ethereal tune, the chiming of the clock tower…

Wait a second. That really was the clock tower. Was that the time?!

Realizing the hour, Melissa groaned. She was going to be late to her next class! She grabbed the folder haphazardly never noticing as her precious composition paper fluttered to the ground like a white dove's feather.

It had been a stressful day, but her professors understood how dedicated she was to her work. Hours later after a mind numbing theory class, she started wandering back to her original practice room in a daze. Her mind buzzed with conflicting thoughts. The other rooms were occupied. Just outside the door, through the cacophony of musical rhythms and loud percussion, she heard a familiar flourish of notes.

"No way," she breathed.

Someone was playing her composition. She stood transfixed in place as a piece of her soul was examined by a complete stranger. All composers placed a little piece of themselves into their work. Any criticism was almost like a personal insult, but the person was slowly making their way through her piece reaching where she stopped writing… and continuing!

She burst into the room, her heart beating a mile a minute. A girl with dark hair and eyes glanced up startled at the sudden entrance.

"That's mine," Melissa blurted out.

The stranger flinched. Taking another student's composition was a high crime. Plagiarism was the lowest of the low to be accused of.

"I'm sorry! I found it on the floor. I didn't know whose it was!" The brunette reached up to vacate the piano bench, but Melissa stopped her.

"How did you know how the rest of it went?"

The girl scrunched up her face in concentration, but managed to answer. "It's something I've heard before."

"When you were young?"

The girl nodded speechlessly.

"Don't be afraid. I've heard it too."

The blonde squared her shoulder in determination. She shouldn't be jealous that someone else knew the tune. Music was a gift to be shared, not covered like a light under a bushel.

"My name is Melissa."

"Anne." The two girls shook hands with a carefree smile.

"Hello. It's nice to meet you. Please," Melissa entreated. "Show me what you did."

The two girls bent their heads as Anne played and Melissa transcribed.

Sometimes you really do hear an angel in the sound of 'hello.'

* * *

 _Cassie the flute teacher is from Cassie's Choice in Season 1. I originally was going to make the person who found Melissa's music a guy and have it as a romance, but another girl seemed to fit better. This episode was chilling especially with the daughter's death. I'll always think of Dr. Adam as Barclay from Star Trek so it was nice seeing him in a different role. Melissa so lethargic after the medicine was terrifying and Olympia Dukakis as Clara was fantastic. You really could believe that she was an archangel._

 _Still working my way through the episodes,_  
 _Grignard_


	8. Sins of the Father 1

Chapter 8

Sins of the Father 1

She waits for midnight to strike. Before, it was for the father of her sons, now it was for her son himself. Was she a bad mother? That one lady, her son had been declared guilty by a jury of murdering that college girl, but he was really innocent the whole time.

Her son. No, he had killed someone in cold blood with a gun all because of the gang. The same gang abandoned him after promising they were family. Well she really was Luthor's family! So she had to work two jobs and never saw her boys, but it was all in sacrifice for them.

It was a no win situation for her ever since Willis got put away: work but lose her boys, or love her boys and lose the house. Her youngest had nearly gone the same dark road as well.

Blaming herself, blaming God, finding fault with all of the wrong people when she should have put the things out of her control into a higher power's hands. It was difficult, like jumping off a great cliff and trusting someone you could not see to catch you. People who did so blindly without questioning never had something bad happen to them.

Why did bad things happen to good people? She had told Tess that one day she'd be sitting in a church waiting for midnight to come again, but this time she was not alone. Her baby boy helped keep vigil as his older brother got put to death. Her youngest is the only man of the house now. It was no guarantee he wouldn't fall down the dark path, but at least he was living. Samuel was still in school, working part time doing odds and ends in the mechanic's shop, a far better cry than Luthor at his age.

Luthor had just turned 16 when he was sentenced. There had been a cry for leniency from the public. He had turned around, found God, but it was too late. Neither the judge nor the state governor could be persuaded. The delinquent had killed a cop. Mother and son had grown closer in his last months on death row than in all the previous years together. They don't talk about the angels, but they do have more conversations about God and the hereafter. He knew a certain angel will take him where he would go, good or bad, and the thought comforted him.

But the angels were gone now, and mother and son were going to be separated.

The stroke of midnight, a quiet hand is laid on mother and her remaining son's shoulder despite no one else being there.

She sits and prays.

* * *

 _I admit I wasn't paying much attention when I was watching this episode and missed the revelation that Willis was Luthor's father. This episode was really interesting and emotional. I think all of the episodes were taken off Youtube so I hope everyone can catch some of the episodes somewhere. I was unhappy with this oneshot and to my surprise I wrote two more stories to make up for it. They'll be posted next._

 _Regards,  
Grignard_


	9. Sins of the Father 2

Chapter 9

Sins of the Father 2

Of happy days and restful nights, it was all a man had ever wanted in life. He thought he could have that but the call of the violence was the only life he knew. He vowed to be there for his sons. His own father abandoned his mother when he was a young boy and Willis refused to repeat the man's sin.

It was all for naught as the gang life stole him from his family. It was stupid. Shooting someone in the back and yet his so called friends in the hood praised him for that act of cowardice.

The trial was swift and merciless. Willis was clearly caught on camera shooting the gun in addition with clear evidence of his fingerprints on the weapon. The judge threw the book at him - death. This was worse than an overdose or a drive by. Those were sudden and unexpected ways to depart this earth. On death row a man could only count the time he had left until the execution, and helplessly watch his mortality slip by. He ended up just like his father, leaving behind a single mother and sons to grow up without a guiding hand. He prayed to God they would not follow in his footsteps.

TBAATBAATBAATBAATBAA

All Luthor wanted was to follow in his father's footsteps. They say his old man was so vicious in a fight, not even claw marks on his shoulder could stop him from shooting someone trying to kill him. What a man to look up to! His father would never cower under the bed covers like a mouse frightened about the loud yells and gunshots that echoed throughout the neighborhood in the middle of the night. Luthor thought the gang could toughen him up so he could be strong like his father. Instead the thug life twisted all that was good in him into a shadow of a man. He shot someone for no reason at all and blindly trusted his "brother-in-arms" with the location of the weapon, only to be sold out for a lenient sentence. As the imposing bars closed in on the boy, and an older man in the cell beside him grinned menacingly, he prayed to God his little brother would not fall into the same trap.

TBAATBAATBAATBAATBAA

Samuel felt trapped. The boys in his neighborhood exalted in his pedigree. Not only was his older brother a revered name in the gangs, Luthor was also the youngest person on death row. How strong and tough a guy like that could be to shoot someone without any hesitation and to face The Man on death row without fear, they thought.

Samuel wanted to laugh at their assumptions. He remembered that strange night a year ago when his brother appeared before him like a ghost from his past. True to that story they read about in English class, the lessons from a ghostly figure from the past steered him in the direction of a better future.

His brother was supposed to die tonight. Claims for leniency fell on death ears. The convict had changed, the prison guards had said. He'd counseled the other inmates, talked of how death was not to be feared and whatever judgment fell on them, they deserved it. They should learn to forgive instead, and to prevent others from walking their damned path. A higher power not of this earth would meet them at the end to strip away any bravado they had of their macho and hardcore life.

The judge and governor remained unmoved, Luthor's execution still stood.

Before the angels (and how his life had been defined by that single moment!), Samuel and his mother had visited Luthor a few times in prison, but the boy sent them away after they were discomforted by the iron bars of the cell and the violent attitudes of some of the inmates. After spending some time in the pen after appeal after appeal was denied, Luthor knew some of the felons were putting on a front just like he did before his revelation. Others, however, were downright insane.

Samuel was comforted by his brother's assurances that the gang was not the way to go. His mother needed him, and he was the man of the house now. The truth of who his father was left him stunned at how similar Willis' and Luthor's lives ended up, how his life could have ended the same way.

"Live Samuel, live to be old," were the last words he ever heard his brother say.

Luthor was dead at midnight.

As Samuel overheard a group of dead-beat fathers in the neighborhood praising the deeds of his executed father and brother, the boy turned on them with grief and pain.

"No! Can't you see! It was wrong what they did. It was wrong for them to kill someone else! It didn't make them more of a man. I didn't need them to be men! I needed my dad and my brother. I want my father. I want my brother. I want them back!"

He broke down sobbing, not caring that a boy who cried at his age was considered a disgrace.

"Go home," Samuel begged them. "Just for one night, don't talk about violence. Call your children home and spend time with them. It's all we ever wanted."

The men shuffled their feet, uncomfortable at his words. They remembered their own fathers who either left them or were killed through gang violence. They thought of their own wives and children wondering where their daddy was as they wasted the days and nights away. If one day he'll walk out the door and never come back. They could see the cycle repeating itself in their generation and the next with their sons.

Samuel's uncle took the quietly weeping boy home to his mother.

And for one night, all was quiet in the neighborhood.


	10. Sins of the Father 3

Chapter 10

Sins of the Father 3

The night Samuel found his mother weeping in church at midnight was when he found out the truth about his father. The man, if he should even be called that, was a common murderer, the same as his brother, locked in a vicious never-ending cycle. His mother bitterly stated that Samuel would be next.

With shock and disbelief Samuel confessed of his brother's appearance outside the prison to stop his foolish notion of taking vengeance. His mother was about to tan his hide for even touching a gun, but the boy's distraught face told her he had already learned his lesson the hard way. The chain of violence in their family had finally ended with him.

 _Maybe other boys could do the same if they heard the same message._

Samuel hid this thought deep within him as he walked home from school a few weeks later.

"No! They killed my brothers! Not just one of them, all _four_ of them!"

A boy was shouting futilely at his friend beside him. Within the angry youth's hands was a handgun, black and deadly. He couldn't have been but a year younger than him, Samuel thought.

It was one involuntary step, hesitant and fearful. The second was stronger and he felt as if a comforting hand was being placed on his shoulder. His next strides were full of purpose.

"It's heavier than you thought it was, yeah?" Samuel called out to him.

The stranger was holding the object awkwardly in his hands, no doubt realizing the weapon's true weight, or perhaps the weight of blood upon it.

"It's none of your business!" he spat out.

Samuel held his hands up in surrender. "Listen, you're feeling angry and all you want to do is kill the guys who hurt your family. You want to pull that trigger and watch them bleed out on the street."

The boy stood there stunned unsure how the person standing in front of him knew every thought running through his head.

The son and brother of killers took a deep breath, "But I know one thing that keeps running through your head, above the anger and the grief."

"Wuh-what…" the boy whispered shakily.

"You're terrified."

The youth nodded his head slowly. He had no idea what he was doing. He thought that all he had to do was get the gun and shoot the gang members who gunned down his brothers over the past six years. No one would blame him for wanting retribution!

So why did he feel sick to his stomach?

"My name's Samuel. What's your name?" Samuel asked putting his hands down now that he won the boy's trust.

"Patrick, Patrick Bubley."

Samuel nodded slowly. Everyone in the neighborhood knew the family's sad story. One by one the family of five boys had four of their sons killed in the street. The first had been due to being in the wrong place at the wrong time, the rest were in vengeance for the eldest, and it looked like the remaining Bubley brother was following the same path.

Not unless Samuel could stop it.

"Come with me."

Patrick blindly followed his friend, doing as he bid as the pair hid the gun in an abandoned car at the mechanic's shop. He wasn't sure why he was obeying Samuel, but the slim boy had a look of determination on his face.

"Trust me, you won't need that where we're going."

Patrick's eyes widened as they approached the State Correctional Facility. He was going to be turned in by a snitch! He made himself to run, but Samuel grabbed his arm.

"Wait, please, you have to talk to him."

"Who?"

Samuel looked up at the iron bars. "My brother."

TBAATBAATBAATBAATBAA

Luthor was lying in his jail cell when the guard, Johnson announced he had a visitor. The inmate was confused. The only visitors he had lately was his court appointed lawyer. The man said with the appeals procedures and the sheer amount of court back logs, it could be years before they carried out his execution. He had a lot of time on his hands.

"Sam, how'd you get in here?" Luthor stood to greet his brother. To his surprise, Samuel had brought a friend.

The boys glanced over at the guards at the other end of the cell block. "We told them we were doing a project for school," his little brother said. "Please Luthor! You have to talk to him!"

The whole story came spilling out of Patrick Bubley – his grief, his confusion, asking God why him and his family?

Luthor's eyes filled with pity and he could see the boy tensing with rage at the look. No one in the neighborhood tolerated that expression from anyone, even if they were well meaning.

"Listen, killing someone isn't the answer. It's not brave to shoot someone down, to end their life. I told Samuel that he needed to be the first in our family to do something – you need to live, live to be old. Your brothers would have wanted that, not for you to wind up next to me, or worse in another grave beside them."

Patrick's body shook with shame and anguish as the inmate spoke. Luthor was right. Nothing could be solved with further bloodshed. He never thought about merely living. Their rough hood guaranteed a youth would die before he reached his 20's. Who would take care of his drug addicted mother? He had to help her, and to keep his brothers' memories alive. Getting the gun was a mistake. He could see the four of them, standing proud and tall at the sight of their baby brother turning away from the path of violence.

Samuel threw an arm around the skinny boy's shoulders, supporting him while Patrick could finally let his emotions out. Sam knew the victimized youth was probably holding in his pain over the years, the adage that men didn't cry being the norm.

As they left the older brother, the pair stepped out into the cool, free air, Patrick felt cleansed. A great weight had been lifted off his heart. The pair made plans to deposit the gun in the police station's anonymous drop-off location.

Luthor breathed a sigh of relief knowing he had convinced the youngest Bubley brother to drop his quest for vengeance. He thought that would be the last he saw of his little brother.

Samuel was back again two weeks later with another angry boy. Patrick brought in his neighbor the week after that. Day after day Luthor spoke with any who visited him until his voice was hoarse with his pleas. Some youths chose to walk the brighter path. Others turned away to darkness. True to his prediction to Samuel, he saw the same youths a few years later locked up in the maximum security prison in the cell by him.

Johnson turned a blind eye towards the numerous boys visiting the prisoner on death row. A month after the first visitation, Luthor found an unopened candy bar on his prison issued pillow, he gave a respectful nod towards his jailer. It was sweeter than he remembered.

The city reported the lowest level of crime and violence in the neighborhood that year.

* * *

 _This is the last for this episode. It sounds too similar to the chapter before it. Thank you_ _christianqueenofegypt for reviewing. You also reviewed the single story before._

 _More to come,  
Grignard_


	11. Lost and Found

Chapter 11

Lost and Found

Quietly Monica leaned over, her long red locks brushing over the Angel of Death's shoulder. The flickering screen of a computer monitor showed a picture of a boy, innocent and smiling towards the camera.

Andrew knew he could just bow his head and will the location of the lost waif to him, but his boss didn't work that way. If all answers were so easy, there truly would be heaven on earth.

He heared the sweet angel sigh behind him. She was still despondent over her former friend.

Kathleen, like Lucifer, had questioned her purpose, doubted God's infallible plan for her. Was that wrong? To blindly trust without questioning is to be a puppet, unthinking with no free will. Humans could stumble and fall and still be welcomed back with open arms, the prodigal son receiving the fatted calf. What about the dutiful son who stayed home and never rebelled? Could angels not be tempted from his grace?

The two women had fought for Frank's soul. Monica had won and in the process had saved three souls – Frank, the lost boy, and the witness. The older boy, missing for years, had thought his previous life had been a dream, never knowing a sorrowful mother had ever been looking for him.

Even the blind could see what was the right thing to do! How could the former angel be so misguided? The dark lady was vindictive, spiteful, a corruption of her former self. Hopefully, with time and effort, the heavenly pair believed Kathleen would return, humbled and a little wiser, with heartfelt words to guide the lost human soul, though Monica and Andrew did not know the hour or the day when that would occur. They wouldn't give up on her until then.

"We found him!" Frank shouted in jubilation from the phone, speaking of the boy on the monitor. "He's saved!"

And by the grace of God so they all could be.

* * *

 _Posting another chapter since this is short. This episode was so sad, especially with Andrew and that little girl in the cold. At least there was a happy ending for the dark subject matter. Jasmine Guy was awesome as Kathleen. Hi young Clark Gregg! Also laughing at the "state of the art" computers._

 _Grignard_


	12. Manny

Chapter 12

Manny

"My fellow graduates of the class of 2012.

We have come a long way since we first entered these hallowed halls. We have come from all walks of life, with widely differing backgrounds – the affluent living in their grand mansions to the poor who sometimes had no home at all.

I come from the latter group. I know of hardship and poverty, and for that I am most grateful for all that was given to me. I used to think that being a doctor meant real leather chairs and the best office, but I and every single student who's participated in this prestigious doctoral program knows it's about one thing alone: to help those in need.

A few years ago, I probably would have never even known how to spell the word "valedictorian" but I only achieved this honor because of the people around me. I would like to start with thanking my father, the man who found me, adopted me, and most importantly of all, loved me into being the man I am today. Some people may know Dr. Hamilton Archibald. In fact, he probably delivered some of you sitting in the audience. He is a great man, and he is who I strive to imitate every day of my life.

Let us take ten seconds to think of those who have loved and encouraged us every step of the way. For my mama who watches over me in heaven, for my adoptive parents sitting in the audience, and most of all for God, who guides my path in life every day.

* * *

 _A short one again. The structure is based off of a valedictorian speech and was inspired by Mr. Roger's lifetime achievement award presented at the Oscars. There's a fantastic Esquire article which described it perfectly - ""All of us have special ones who have loved us into being. Would you just take, along with me, ten seconds to think of the people who have helped you become who you are….Ten seconds of silence"… One second, two seconds, three seconds…and now the jaws clenched, and the bosoms heaved, and the mascara ran, and the tears fell upon the beglittered gathering like rain leaking down a crystal chandelier, and Mister Rogers finally looked up from his watch and said, "May God be with you" to all his vanquished children."_

 _Watch his TV Hall of Fame appearance where jumps on stage in joy to greet an old friend and his defense of television to the Senate!_

 _Grignard_


	13. The Comeback

Chapter 13

The Comeback

Lillian Bennett huddled in her seat dressed in black. The color was slimming, attractive, a staple in every woman's closet, except when it was the most unwanted time to wear. The woman sat in the pew, stiffed backed, blind to the beauty in the grand building. She had had a brief rise of fame since her impromptu performance at Amanda Revere's review, but she had gone back to her original position as her hometown's drama teacher.

Old friends that she hasn't seen in 30 years had come today, some starlets, others has-beens like her.

If she squinted this funeral home could almost be like a stage.

It was a morbid show. A strange appreciation dedicated for the star on stage, a girl who was dead. Her daughter, her baby girl.

Allison had also gotten wonderful reviews during Amanda's show. Her star was on the up and up, no doubt helped by the aging songstress. It was the least the woman could do in atonement for ruining her mother's career.

Lillian knew she could have bounced back from her disastrous opening day, there had been some offers, but she had trusted in luck and omens and decided to return home with her tail between her legs. That had been a mistake, to give up so easily, but she has her drama students as consolation and as always, her daughter.

Had a daughter.

It was a foolhardy audition for a down on her luck waitress that started Allison on the cigarettes. Then the girl found that more connections could be made hobnobbing with other actors and actresses sucking on the white sticks filled with nicotine during breaks. She got more parts, a bit on a nationally syndicated TV show about angels (if they only knew!). But the cigarettes were an addiction now and a comfort. It was a miracle her voice hadn't suffered, but her lungs did. Lung cancer, the doctor diagnosed. The mother pulled every penny out of her teacher's stipend, even took out loans to pay for her child's chemotherapy and medications, but it was of no use.

A bright star burned out too soon, the brief blurb in variety had said. She could have been great.

Another girl would take her place, one with the same dreams and spunk. Fortune turned her wheel but the mother couldn't stand to bother with the signs. The starlets patted her shoulder as they gave their condolences and shuffled out to their limos quickly after.

Alone, the older woman bitterly mused in her grief. God had caused this. Reunited mother and daughter, gave her a shot, only to take it away cruelly. If the two had never taken the stage at Amanda's review, would her daughter never gone on any farther? Would she had come home, become a teacher, married and had children like her? Would she have lived?

No, Allison was too stubborn. She would have stuck it out for another ten years even if she had to live in an alleyway. At least she had a chance. Better to go out with a bang than decline in a slow whimper, but it didn't help with the pain.

"Please god," the mother prayed, "Watch over the newest soul to join your ranks. She'd be great in the choir."

* * *

 _Okay I have to admit I did not like the actress' singing in this episode, but after doing the research, I found that this was in fact Carol Burnett's real life daughter. Unfortunately Carrie Hamilton died at the age of 38 from brain and lung cancer brought on by smoking so that's where I got the inspiration for this story._


	14. Children of the Night

Chapter 14

Children of the Night

Ally eyed the pile of entries with a despondent air. None of these fit her vision! Some were out of date, another too avant-garde (how did one even sit in that chair?), it all just looked wrong! This was supposed to be the new family center for the city's homeless population – a complete facility with beds, showers, even a fully equipped kitchen. Some of the architects didn't even know how these places operated. Their layouts didn't consider the wide turnover of peoples or the logistics of dealing with large amounts of donated food.

They just didn't understand! Not like she knew either. She had only been a runaway for three days, but she had experienced a lifetime in her short moments on the streets. They had been only children – Doc, Lightning, Fish… China. It was terrible conditions they had been in. The quartet resorted to living in a junkyard. She'd eaten cat food, even wanted to sell her body, she remembered with a shudder.

She'd read China's poetry. The words depicted her naiveté on the streets, so similar to Ally's when she had first run away. It was a blessing the brunette had run into the kindly group rather than being robbed or killed on her first day for her meager possessions. China's journal and those harrowing days stayed with her for the next 15 years.

Ally could have been another dark haired girl prostituting herself on a street corner. Her fate now was truly heaven sent.

She had reunited with her family. After yelling at her until their voices were raw, her parents tearfully welcomed her back home. She forgave her father. It was an impulsive mistake he had made with the other woman, just like her decision to run away was. Both those blunders had nearly cost them their families.

The grown woman now wanted to prevent future boys or girls from making the same mistake. A majority of the youths on the street could be saved with a warm, clean place to stay and sober up, medical facilities to take care of their ills, and a listening ear to heal their troubled hearts.

She started from the bottom volunteering as a counselor, drawing on her street experience to connect to the runaways. For some, it was as easy as a phone call to their worried families. For others, it was like talking to a brick wall. Many had clear medical and psychological problems that would take years to fix. She hoped she wouldn't see the same children lying dead in an alleyway, but at least there would be a place for them to stay.

If only she could decide on a design!

Maybe she should call it a day. It was obvious there was nothing to see here.

A soft coo of a dove called her attention to the window. How odd, she'd never seen one so far into the city before. She shook her head wryly. Stop daydreaming! She turned back to lock up her desk.

A plain green folder caught her eye on the top of the pile. Had that been there before? The entry was from a smaller independent design, but whoever drew the layout had talent. The building plan was simple, but knowledgeable of how a shelter should work. Even the color scheme on the walls was of a calming but easy to clean material.

It was perfect.

"Set up a meeting with them tomorrow," she told her administrative assistant, triumphantly waving the green folder in the air.

A man a few years older than her greeted Ally with a warm handshake the next afternoon. They settled down across the wooden conference table, the man neatly attired with a simple suit.

"Thank you for your submission." Ally commended. "Your design stood out among the others, as if you really understood what we needed, not just what we wanted."

A wry grin ghosted across the blonde man's face. "I'm actually quite familiar with homeless shelters."

Her eyebrows raised in curiosity as she leaned across the table closer to him. "You don't say." Something seemed so familiar with this person.

"I was in and out of them for a few years. I was very young, not even eighteen. I had a dad who liked to use me as a punching bag so I left. For a while, it was alright out on the streets, but one day I collapsed from undiagnosed tuberculosis. Thankfully cured now," he quickly added apologetically holding his hands up. He never noticed the woman's quiet gasp.

"Luckily an angel helped me to find a free clinic. Getting medical help was my second chance on life. I went back to school, got my degree in architecture, and found a good place to work. When your proposal came across my desk, I jumped at the opportunity." He gave the shelter coordinator a fond smile, "Especially since I found out you were in charge of the project, Alley Kat."

Her breath caught. Only two people living knew that name. She eyed his neatly tied back blonde hair and the slightly crooked nose.

"Doc?" she breathed. The boy who had saved her from a drugged out teen was sitting before her, whole and happy.

Her old friend laughed at her shocked reaction. "Monica visited me at the hospital to make sure I was ok. She told me your full name. I finally confirmed it when I was researching your company. Your profile had that same name and said you were from Lincoln, Nebraska."

She let out a remorseful groan, "I never could shut up about that." Ally listened with joy as the man updated her on everyone's progress.

"Lightning got clean. He's in Delaware, married with a son. Jazz is off the streets too. I visit the place where China and Fish died from time to time."

"Doc, you were always taking care of us." Ally murmured. With tears brimming in her eyes, she slid a hand into his, now warm and healthy. "It's you, it's really you. I didn't even know where to find you, to thank you."

He grinned across the table. The young girl had grown up to be a lovely, caring woman.

She continued on. "You'll love seeing what the city's doing to help with the homeless and runaways. It's so much better than someone handing out free sandwiches from a van, even if she was an angel." The last part she murmured quietly only to him. "You've won the contract, of course," she added as an afterthought. Her tendency to babble never did go away from her youth. "There's so much I want to ask you!"

Doc smiled, squeezing her hand with easy affection, "Dinner then? And I believe I promised you a house."

* * *

 _This episode was really heartbreaking with China's prostitution and death. Fish's death and Doc's sickness was terrifying. Doc and Ally were really sweet together and it's neat seeing Christopher Masterson and Madeline Zima in their early work. I haven't watched past Season 6 yet, but I have about 48 one-shots written up, some multiple to an episode._

 _Thanks,  
Grignard_


	15. Seek and Ye Shall Find

Chapter 15

Seek and Ye Shall Find

Effie Taylor took a few wheezing breaths. It had been getting harder and harder for the bus stop owner to take one nowadays. She had fought the fight, finished the race, and kept her faith. Her stiff fingers clutched her worn Bible at her side, her rheumy eyes too blind to read the fine print, but she took heart in that her most cherished item was there beside her.

She took joy in her crowning achievement of her lifetime – setting foot in the Holy Land. She had walked in her Lord's hometown, laid her hands on the slab where his body rested after the crucifixion, and saw with her own eyes the same sunrise her savior might had seen. Strange to think that her lifelong dream, to see an angel had been achieved first before this. When she had reached Jerusalem, she prayed for all of them, that strange group that was gathered together only by the grace of God. She still thought of them all these years later.

The Colonel, so touchy about this precious jukebox, had passed on not long after that strange night. Sue Ellen and Skeeter with their baby, now no longer a baby, but a caring teenager. Though the pair didn't have the wealth, the raised their own with all the love they could give. Strangely Brother Jim had been caught in some unscrupulous deal and the last she heard he was doing time in a minimum security prison.

Effie paid extra attention in her prayers for the soul of Dr. Chester Crayton, the man who had lost so much. The doctor had been on the brink of damnation but was pulled back at the last minute. He forgave the most unforgivable of sins, giving repentance to the man who murdered his wife. The dark haired woman gave a merciful thought to the murderer, Paul Ratcliff, who truly atoned at the end.

The old woman groaned quietly as she turned in her armchair. It was the only way she could sleep some nights. The doctors had said it wouldn't be long now, but she wanted to pass on at home, not in a sterile hospital room.

A soft rosy glow emanated throughout her living room. Oh, how comforting it was. The light warmed her chilled bones. A woman's gentle hand took her old, worn ones.

"Praise God," Effie whispered as she saw who was beside her.

"Yes," Monica whispered. "Praise him and all of his wondrous deeds." The beautiful angel looked not a day older than when the old woman had last seen her all those years ago.

The aged woman smiled, "Have you come to take me home Monica? To the Promised Land?"

"Not me." The redhead gestured to the handsome man beside her. Oh, it was the reporter from that strange day! Well wasn't that a surprise. Two angels had unknowingly been in her midst the whole time.

"Effie, my name is Andrew. I'm the Angel of Death. I'll take you to see the Father, but Monica volunteered to give you the good news." With an effortless pull he tugged on the dying woman's hand, bringing her to her feet.

It was strange, like being reborn again. The years fell away and she was well again, whole and healthy. Effie glanced back to see her wizened body, asleep in the chair.

"My good news is to see the Lord," the woman exclaimed. "What can be better than that?"

"And he will be pleased to see you, Effie, but he wanted to let you know he wishes to bestow on you a blessed role."

"What role? What can a nobody bus station owner do for him?"

The redhead took both her newly unblemished hands within hers pale ones. "Your belief in him and your act of forgiveness towards me all those years ago, so much like his own, made you the perfect candidate in his eyes."

The African-American woman still looked on in confusion.

Monica continued on, "Your words showed me the way back home. So too will you do so for the less fortunate. You, Effie Taylor, are to join the ranks as one of his angels, to spread the words "God loves you' to all those who are lost and are in need of being found."

The newest angel to join the ranks wept with happiness and could only say the words, "I am the handmaid of the Lord, let it be done according to his word."

* * *

 _I thought this episode was better than_ Last Call. _A bunch of people gathered together and you find out their backstories worked well this time. Andrew's look of shock when Monica doesn't recognize him was adorable. This episode was very powerful in the end especially when Dr. Crayton put his hand against the glass and said "I forgive you." The girl annoyed me though. She's lucky her husband came for her. Towards the further seasons I feel Roma Downey's acting gets flat. She's better in the first four seasons._


	16. Perfect Little Angel

Chapter 16

Perfect Little Angel

 _Miss Colorado State was crowned yesterday evening with that familiar sparking tiara and beautiful flowers, but everyone's eyes were on Miss Unincorporated Area #579. Tracy Beringer's surprising revelation during the question and answer portion of the contest not only captured the attention of the judges but those watching the pageant too. Her heartfelt honesty about joining the competition despite being an unwed mother, and that it did not justify the lie was a breath of fresh air amongst the standard bland answers from the contestants. By admitting that nothing is perfect made her shine brighter than any jeweled crown. Congratulations, Miss Beringer, no one deserves the title of Nick's Mother more than you._

Mr. Cummings barely managed to grip the newspaper in his hands. "Honey, come here! You have to see this!"

His wife ran in, frantic at his tone. Her husband hadn't been this agitated ever since, well since their daughter ran away.

He pointed a shaking finger at the picture of the woman in the paper.

Mrs. Cummings gasped.

Sarah, her Sarah, beautifully dressed in red with an angelic boy beside her. It had been seven years but a mother never forgot her child's face. Her baby had a baby of her own, one in need of heart surgery. When did Sarah get pregnant? Based on Nick's age it must have been around the time when she ran away from home.

Oh her headstrong girl!

Sarah had always been independent, stubbornly so. She would rather bear her problems in secret rather than ask for help. Such a mindset must have led her to run away from home at sixteen. Her idiotic high school boyfriend, who must have been the father of her child, was certainly of no use, but why couldn't she have turned to them, her mother and father?

Miracle of miracles there was an address listed in the paper to write to her.

 _We miss you. We've looked everywhere for you. Please come home._

Three days later the phone call they've been waiting seven years for finally came.

"Mom?"

* * *

 _I personally think this chapter was just a rehash of the episode and not really much detail. The premise for this episode was a little ridiculous. What parent leaves their 10 year old kid all alone in an apartment all day? He should have been in school and the pageant was a little too cutesy for me._


	17. Spirit of Liberty Moon 1

Chapter 17

Spirit of Liberty Moon 1

She marched her way with a megaphone to the steps of the prominent building intent on proclaiming the sins of her former government.

As her feet touched the first stair, she saw her child.

She kept silent.

Within two strides, Jean held the tall, gangly girl in her arms, weeping "Daughter" into her braided tresses. She stroked her child's hair, so much like her own growing up. After the upheaval, Liberty Moon had been detained along with several other children in an orphanage regardless whether they had living parents or not. Such was the efficiency of the Chinese government, where a parent's fate could be decided in three days' time, and children could be herded into a pen like cattle.

Jean had faltered. She had her conviction to be a martyr to the world, but hesitated at the sight of her daughter. God so loved the world that he sacrificed his only begotten son, but could he have sacrificed himself while leaving a child behind? Jean could not, and with that said, a revolutionary stayed silent, a daughter kept her mother, and the people walked on in Tiananmen Square.

It didn't take long for him to find her. Edward Tanner had been her faithful knight since first hearing her story. He was in love with a beautiful, passionate woman whom he didn't know existed three weeks ago, but now was willing to break international law to help her. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her to keep still, to stay safe with him. Fortunately a higher power had persuaded her. Jean's husband was dead, but she had seen her child. She could live for her child now safely enshrouded in her arms.

The man took her and her daughter into his care as their cherished friend, always honoring the memory of her departed husband. It didn't take but a few judicious bribes to bring the girl and woman back into the United States. Jean went to him with every triumph her daughter achieved in her new world, and he grew to love the girl like his own. Years past and Liberty Moon, the daughter of a poet, took her family's story to heart. She became a humanitarian rights lawyer with her proud mother looking on. Edward continued to admire from afar, the ever faithful servant to his Joan of Arc. This Joan would not be sacrificed needlessly at the stake on a bed of fire. Instead the crusader would choose life over death.

* * *

 _I love this episode. When I first saw it Jean's death was so heartbreaking to me, and Adrian Pasdar's character was so sweet to her and Monica. Bai Ling is also a wonderful actress. This was just a what-if if Jean had saw her daughter before her speech in China. Two more to follow._


	18. Spirit of Liberty Moon 2

Chapter 18

Spirit of Liberty Moon 2

He found his once rosy hued days of constant work and profit are meaningless after Jean and Monica's revelation. How could he market brightly colored and expensive toys 'Made in China' when people were suffering and dying?

"But they're half a world away!" Alex Stella, his old friend and coworker exclaimed. He did not understand. He still only saw the bottom dollar and the ever relentless pursuit of wealth.

Edward Tanner was in love with a dead woman. Someone who he didn't know existed until a few weeks ago, but now his heart and soul had been captivated by her: her soft spoken words, the passion in her eyes, her glossy black hair bent with unshed tears. He kept silent during their first days of travel to honor her long missing husband. It broke his heart to see their reunion only for her to weep over Gus' dead body moments after. 

The businessman's heart and soul had not been touched afterwards. For a few summers, life with Liberty Moon was a reminder of what he had lost. The daughter is a spitting image of her mother with just as similar passion for freedom. She had often gotten in trouble at the orphanage speaking out about injustices.

Without Liberty Moon, Edward felt lost on his day to day life, until one day browsing the newspaper, he found an article centered on human rights abuses.

The man contacted the organization, telling Jean's story to the group, while keeping Liberty Moon a secret. He would not put Jean's precious daughter in danger, not after all the woman had been through. He would tell the world that Jean Chang existed.

George and he write often, coding their more controversial statements using historical figures. Edward Tanner became famous for his story, Jean's story. It spread with each passing day. A novelist captured the dead woman's tale beautifully, and there's talk of a motion picture adaption. International sanctions against China were being discussed. As Edward prepared to make his nationally televised interview to the public, he hoped Jean was looking down on him, proud of how much one person could change the world.


	19. Spirit of Liberty Moon 3

Chapter 19

Spirit of Liberty Moon 3

Monica had never had someone die so violently in her arms before, and never one of her own personal cases. Her one circumstance with the teacher, abducted into the woods by his former students had been the closest, but even then he had been saved in the end.

She felt like her world had been shattered with Jean's death.

Understandably, Tess gave her a break until her next assignment. Even angels needed a chance to recuperate.

This angel wanted to instinctively find the soul of the Chinese woman but she was safe in Andrew's hands getting accustomed to the 'Other Side.' Jean would be reunited with Gus, her husband, and Monica didn't wish to interrupt their meeting for the world. The pair had been parted for so long.

It was her fault. If she had never pointed Edward Tanner in the direction of the Chinese revolutionary, the man and his business partner would have concluded their international toy manufacturing venture and left as rich men. Edward's heart would have been untouched, and he would have remained the cold, calculating entrepreneur chasing the next dollar.

But Jean would still be alive.

The angel could not stop the governmental machine. One Chinese woman out of a billion people was a life worth saving in her eyes, but to the Communists, Jean was another dissident to be exterminated, and they had done so with efficiency.

There was hope in all this destruction. Death had always been a motivation for change. It was a ripple effect. Gus' death had provoked Jean into action. Then in turn, her death had changed the lives of not only one but four people: George, Edward, Liberty Moon, and Monica herself.

Each of those souls would go on to affect others. They would all do their best to honor the martyr's memory, the angel included. With that thought and redoubled courage, Monica let the woman's soul rest in peace.

* * *

 _I hope it's not confusing if I post two chapters at a time. Again, this was a great episode with great acting and wonderful story._

 _Grignard_


	20. Random Acts

Chapter 20

Random Acts

Mike O'Conner was all set to retire, the last straw breaking the camel's back. Overcrowded schools, under budget funding, and the daily battle with unreasonable students would drive any educator to quit. Surprisingly a brush with death rejuvenated his passion for teaching. His plight had been caused by a former delinquent student, but he had also been saved by none other than his most problematic one, Robbie Hawkins. Robbie could have turned into another Lucas Tremaine: a drug addicted murderer one step away from hell. Mike didn't know he had made a difference in Robbie's life by giving him a second chance after the stolen camera incident.

It seemed to have worked. Robbie had been the one to tell the police that exit number 34, Lake Washington, was the fateful location of his missing teacher. With the sounds of his students wishing him happiness after 20 years of teaching echoing in his mind, Mike found he still had more to live for and people who depended on him. He had been selfish to place his petty needs before that of his students.

The recovery from the bullet wound was arduous, but he had hope on his side. Many of his students were the first to greet him on his waking to the last day when he walked out of the hospital of his own power. His first day back on the job was met with cheers.

Don't get him wrong, the same issues with the school system still stood, and the role of teacher was never the highest paying occupation. He could easily obtain a different job with fewer hours and more benefits. The settlement with the board of education for getting kidnapped on school property helped with the medical bills, but he was still stuck in a dingy apartment with no CD's.

The look on his students as they walked on graduation was worth it though.

The years passed and again, there were some delinquents who fell asleep during class and equally bright stars that excelled. The troublemakers he found were often from broken homes, single parent households who relied on their child's to contribute to the household expenses. A full course load alongside a 7 hour work shift was brutal, so it was no wonder these failed his civics class. Private tutoring helped these unfortunate souls, at the cost of the man's social life, but every passing grade was a balm to the sting.

Mr. O'Conner found his 30th teaching anniversary much more pleasant than his 20th. He still had it in him to teach for another twenty years.

Especially since the man presenting him with his commendation was Robbie Hawkins, college graduate and a noteworthy teacher himself.

* * *

 _A good episode with John Ritter and a young Dante Basco. The ending was pretty dramatic. Also kudos for Roma Downey with her acting. It was much less wooden than her later seasons. This one shot was based off of a Korean PSA where a teacher tried really hard to get through to her failing student._


	21. Labor of Love 1

Chapter 21

Labor of Love 1

Dr. Meg Salter was a few steps away from the hospital exit when the lights flickered ominously.

"No, no, no!" she exclaimed. For once in her life she was being spontaneous, joining her husband on his same flight to surprise him in Paris for their 22nd wedding anniversary. The weather had to cooperate with her!

"Please God," she breathed, but the lights flashed again before dying completely.

As a medical professional, she had a duty to take care of the newborn babies in her hospital, often sacrificing her personal life for the cause. Well she'd have to take another hit for the team.

She raced back into the neonatal ward, sending an apologetic thought to her husband Prof. Brian Salter, "Sorry dear, you're going to be spending our anniversary alone."

True to their function, the emergency generators kicked on after main power loss. With the dim lighting, Dr. Salter rushed to stabilize babies until power was restored. _If_ it could be restored, she thought. The sudden storm seemed to be getting worse.

She glanced at the red-haired doctor who was soothing a wailing babe. Monica was new, but they had become friends in a short time. It was the Irish woman who had convinced Meg to live for herself for once, instead of for the hospital. Strangely though, Monica didn't seem to want her to leave tonight. It looked like she got her wish.

It was a few hours before full power was restored to the children's wing, but Meg had truly missed her flight to Paris. Sure she could go and catch another one, but her resolve was weakening from her earlier impulse and the severe storm. She decided to stay and work her normal shift at the hospital.

A sudden flurry of movement distracted her and a crash team burst through the emergency doors. "We have a woman who went into early labor during a flight."

Meg glanced at the woman's protruding belly, "What was she doing taking such a risk by flying when she's so far along?!"

She did a brief, clinical assessment on the patient. "Vitals are critical, she's had two seizures, an edema. Set her up on a hypertension drip."

"Ma'am, what's your name?" Meg questioned her. The woman's answer would also gauge how coherent she was.

"Olivia…" The woman's voice was feeble.

"Olivia, my name is Dr. Meg Salter. You're going to be just fine."

To her surprise Olivia began breathing harshly, "Salter… Dr. Salter?"

Meg nodded. Did the pregnant woman know her? She wasn't one of her usual patients. "Yes, that's me. Come on, we're going to take you into surgery and deliver your baby."

"Yes, please. Save my baby," the woman murmured weakly.

Within no time Meg was scrubbed up reassuring Olivia through her contractions. With one final push Meg was holding a baby girl in her arms.

"She's not breathing," the doctor cursed. "Quickly, oxygen and something to clear her airway." With professional ease, the nursing staff quickly handed the requested items over and soon a healthy cry was sounding throughout the room.

"Congratulations, Olivia, it's a girl and she's perfect."

The new mother gave a faint smile, but her head was aching too much to speak.

"Get the trauma team in here now!" Meg ordered. She personally took the woman's baby into pediatrics to perform the standard tests.

"You are a miracle baby, little one," the red haired Doctor whispered. Every time she held a newborn babe, she thought that it could have been hers and her husband's, but such was the price of being a prominent obstetrician and history professor.

She placed the girl into her carrier making sure the baby was resting comfortably.

Dr. Salter turned only to see the most unexpected sight.

"Brian! What a lovely surprise!" Had he skipped his flight to spend their anniversary with her?

Her husband was soaking wet from the storm's rains and looking as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

Meg stopped short in front of him.

"Is that Olivia's baby?" He questioned his eyes roaming to the clear baby bassinet.

"Yes, how did you know it was hers?" She turned a critical eye to his concerned face. "How do you know Olivia?"

Her husband guiltily glanced to the floor. "This is Olivia Marland's baby… and mine."

Dr. Salter froze in place. It had just hit her. Olivia Marland was a graduate student at NYU, specifically in her husband's class, one who he had mentioned often on her looks and gentleness. She had just delivered her husband's mistress' baby!

Their baby, not hers.

Brian Salter reached out in supplication, "Please understand, Meg."

She drew back repulsed at the sight of him. How utterly humiliating it was that she was the last to know of his affair, and it wasn't even a simple tryst, they had had a baby together!

"Meg, you were spending hours at the hospital. I was with Olivia working on my research and one thing led to another." He pleaded with her, "She makes me feel alive again, and now with our baby, I finally have the family I always wanted."

"We," his jilted wife broke out suddenly, "We've always wanted a family. When it didn't happen, I thought you were fine with that, but you obviously weren't!"

He shook his head, "You assumed. I wasn't happy, Meg, but I was with her. I was going to do the right thing and say goodbye to her in Paris, but after seeing our baby, I can't. We have so much history together. Is she going to be alright?"

Meg bit her lip at the complete destruction of her marriage before her eyes. "Dr. Parr, the operating surgeon, is a good man and I believed the plane managed to turn back in time." Her eyes were swimming with tears, but her husband (soon to be ex) ignored her plight. Luckily an angel in the form of Monica came in.

"Monica, run the usual tests on Baby Marland. I'm going to check on the other babies." With that said Meg escaped from the room as quickly as she could.

Meg Salter lost herself in the soft coos of sleeping babies. Official word had come through that Olivia Marland was expected to pull through thanks to the skills of Dr. Parr. The female doctor didn't know whether to be grateful or upset.

Love was a two way street. She had done her best to make do with the dry lectures and unromantic anniversary gifts (a piece of the Berlin Wall, seriously?), but it was obviously a futile effort. Her husband had chosen and she had been left behind, broken and unwanted.

* * *

 _I seem to be writing for a lot of episodes in Season 3. I was impressed with Priscilla Presley's acting and surprised at how jaded Celeste all of sudden became. That's pretty depressing for an angel to know how bad the human world is after only a month. It's nice to see Hudson Leick outside of Xena. I find it hard to believe she wasn't in other shows or movies. I thought the doctor was crazy for wanting to fly out in such a crazy thunderstorm so I made this one shot. Two more to follow._


	22. Labor of Love 2

Chapter 22

Labor of Love 2

 _Brian Salter never tells Olivia Marland he loved her on the plane. He was still unsure of his answer to stay with her even when she was pregnant with his baby._

A man like that, once he has a taste of the forbidden, would never be faithful again.

His pregnant student arrived safely with her family in Paris. He explored the closest bar to his hotel.

He returned home from the trip to be greeted with a grateful kiss from Meg Salter. His wife was still unsuspecting of his affair.

He heard a month later that Olivia had a baby girl.

A girl. He had a daughter. He should be happy, but all Brian felt was relief. Meg remained in the dark, Olivia was still so in love with him, she promised not to breathe a word on who the father of her child was, and now there's a new grad student in his class with a sultry smile.

"Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it."

* * *

 _I forgot to say that some stories will have an alternate ending to what happened in the show. The previous chapter showed Brian not reconciling with his wife and this one shows him as a scumbag._


	23. Labor of Love 3

Chapter 23

Labor of Love 3

Celeste watched over her newest charge sleeping peacefully in her basinet. Her early arrival into the world has not come with any ill side effects. The baby was strong and healthy.

The moment the blonde angel, posing as a stewardess, cradled the girl within her arms as the plane landed during terrible weather, Celeste knew that she would protect the child with all the powers available to her. A couple of weeks after her own creation, the angel was confident and even just the slightest bit cynical with the human world. This newborn soul turned the darkness into light again. She was supposed to drop the truth into her assignment's lap, but she never knew who that was until the cry of a baby sounded during an airborne flight.

Her charge would have some trials and tribulations to come. Already at three months of age, one was upon her.

"Let me get this straight," the judge said with doubt. "Dr. Meg Salter, you and your husband, Professor Brian Salter wish to formally adopt the daughter of Olivia Marland, who was your husband's mistress?"

The red haired doctor stood to address the court, "Yes your honor, we do."

The man looked over from his lofty seat. "You are doing this out of good will, not out of vindication to harm the child or raise it in hatred?"

Meg breathed a steady breath. "I admit that it's a cruel reminder of what happened between my husband and his student, but the baby needs a family and I can provide one for her."

"She is not yours, Dr. Salter."

"No, your honor, she is mine. From the moment that I delivered her, I knew she was. I thought my husband's affair ended my marriage, but it in fact saved it. Brian knows how to love again and to not take things for granted. I know now not to lose myself in work and my medical responsibilities. We thought we could never have children, but by the grace of God, one has come into our lives, and I am obligated and honored to claim her."

The judge looked stunned. Never in all of his years presiding over his courtroom had he heard such an odd situation, the jilted wife requesting her husband's child from an affair?

And the pair decided to stay together too, how unheard of!

He'd seen many a pair divorce for lesser reason.

On paper, the two were a fine match for the motherless child. Both were of good standing in the community, with stable jobs, and residing in a well-to-do neighborhood, but who's to say that the woman wouldn't change her mind in the long run?

He felt like King Solomon, but instead of dividing the child, he could only give her to the false mother.

Or was Meg Salter really the wrong one?

An unseen long haired blonde woman placed her comforting hand on the judge's shoulder.

The official thought again. The doctor obviously was a loving person. She'd forgiven and stayed with her husband. He appeared properly chastised. No one could have such hope in their eyes with the intent of evil.

"Alright, I'll award you custody of the child, Prof. and Dr. Salter on the condition that the state will observe weekly the child's wellbeing for one year with monthly check-ins detailing the child's heath afterwards. Any sign of abuse, and she'll be taken away from the both of you."

The older couple could only agree joyously as they held hands in the courtroom.

Celeste bent her head close to the sleeping babe, now the newly adopted daughter. "I know you're too young to understand, but God loves you so much that when he made you, he decided to send all these people to watch over you. Your mother, who gave birth to you, looks down from heaven, your father and Mrs. Salter will teach you right from wrong on Earth, and I, your guardian angel will be there by your side every step of the way until you're old enough to hear this wonderful truth."

* * *

 _The last part is kind of similar to what I wrote in Manny. I was surprised to see Celeste so cynical after one month. Is one month on earth all it takes for an angel to be so jaded? It's too bad Hudson Leick left to be in Hercules/Xena but I have to admit that show is a lot more fun to act in. There will be a future story with that scenario. This chapter and the episode itself is idealized. I don't know how a woman raising her husband's child would act like._

 _Grignard_


	24. Amazing Grace

Chapter 24

Amazing Grace

It had started with music.

They had all been united by music. Mr. Kim with his 45's, Michael Burns and his strange synthesizer mixes, the church ladies and their gospel choir, they all shared that commonality despite their backgrounds. Music wasn't just about skin color, though each preferred a different genre.

Mr. Kim and his wife listened to the dulcet tones of their faraway homeland, though the shopkeeper liked to indulge in the Beatles now and then. Blues was always a favorite with the soldier, Anderson Walker, to his rap loving grandson's embarrassment. No one knew what to think of Michael's music. Dr. Serena Hall critiqued when she could, mostly to the man's embarrassment, but there was a flirtatious attitude under the bite.

There had always been something between them since their first meeting when she chastised him on the state of the neighborhood's boiler. Michael did have to admit the area was in a deplorable state. He may have come here against his will, but now that he knew the truth he'd certainly bring everything up to code. It was unfortunate that his kind hearted deed led to the death of a woman who was a pillar in the community.

The group was galvanized in their efforts to retake the community from violence, and they were making progress. The gangs had only killed each other before. This was the first case where they actually targeted an innocent, and the city was prosecuting to the fullest extent of the law. A confident woman who wasn't a stranger to unjustified death named Mrs. Monfort was taking the case, pro bono. It would be a fitting tribute to Mary Harding, the loving grandmother whose death was so grieved by the neighborhood.

TBAATBAATBAATBAATBAA

It had started with flowers.

Dr. Serena laid a bouquet at the murder scene where Walker was wounded, Josh blinded, and where Mary died. Michael, frowning slightly, saw her blooms under the hot May sun. He disappeared into his office. Now it was the woman's turn to frown. Was he so offended that she could offer some tribute to the dead, did he think them such monsters that they did not mourn?

The man came back with a filled vase of water. The woman instantly regretted her cruel thoughts as he placed her flowers in them. The neighborhood had made her think of her skin and the world as being out to get her. The dark skinned tenants had always had prejudices thrown against them, but now she realized she could dish them out with deadly accuracy too. She gave Michael a genuine smile as a peace offering.

A week later, the boiler had finally been fixed and was running smoothly. The neighborhood association decided to celebrate by going to Mary's for joyous meal. Michael and Walker played an impromptu chess tournament while Serena built blocks with Chenise. The man from Beverly Hills got in contact with a charity to donate a hearing aid to the little girl, so she would never be isolated from the world again. They already were segregated by the location of their neighborhood. The church women sang gospel hymns, and Michael and Serena chatted over late coffee until Walker shoed them out personally to lock up for the night.

"You've gone native!" his friends complained, as the landlord explained his decision to stay in his position for good. "There must be a girl involved."

No, that wasn't the truth at all. There was still so much that needed to be done, roofs that needed fixing, streets to be cleaned up. The children's smiles made it worth being away from the glamour of Beverly Hills. If a beautiful doctor was there to keep him on his toes the whole time, well that was an additional bonus.

TBAATBAATBAATBAATBAA

It had started with panic.

Serena came into the beauty shop all in a state of agitation.

"Ooh, what's got a bee in her bonnet?" Queenie snarked to the other women gabbing good naturally around her.

The doctor was pacing around the tiled floor, muttering to herself like a madwoman.

She bit her lip before blurting out her dilemma, "Michael asked me to dinner."

"So? You and he go out all the time."

The younger woman's eyes were wide, "He asked me out on a date."

The perfectly coiffed gossipers eyed each other. This was new!

Sympathetic Tonya Hawkins took Serena's arm to sit her down in an empty chair. "Sweetheart, ya'll have been dancing around each other like bees to honey for months now. Aren't you happy?"

"Oh I am," Serena exclaimed, "but there's so much to think about. What would people say seeing a black woman and a white man together? They'd think I'm too good for my own kind or I'm some kind of a golddigger!"

"Hmph, never seen a doctor as a gold-digger," Queenie laughed. Seeing her distraught face, the woman quickly amended her comment, "Ain't no one going to think that. Ya'll are just two people getting to know each other, that's it. Love is love. It doesn't matter what people's skin color are, as long as they care about each other. You do care about him, don't ya?"

Serena took a deep breath. As an African-American female doctor, she had to put up personal buffers to make her not crumble to the taunts of outsiders. Her first meeting with Michael certainly showed her armor. Now that he was making her way past her defenses, she was making excuses as to why she shouldn't let him in.

"Yes, yes, you're right. I love him, that's all that matters." She glanced at the clock. "I better tell him yes!" and with that said she dashed out of the local boutique.

"Hallelujah, and the blind shall see!" Charmaine rejoiced. She glanced at the eager women gathered around her. "Okay, who had today's date in the book?"

The woman crowded around the betting book to see who won the pot as to when the blushing pair would finally realize their feelings for each other.

* * *

 _I hate... hate...hate the Promised Land crossover episodes. They're much more heavy handed than the other episodes. This one I only liked because of the other characters besides the Greene family. I kind of took the bickering between Michael and Serena as attraction and ran with it. The ending was very touching with good singing. The synthesizer music was awful. I like seeing Kieu Chinh. She's a great actress in very small roles so it's nice seeing her._

 _Grignard_


	25. Unidentified Female

Chapter 25

Unidentified Female

The first time she saw Alex in her dreams, she doesn't question it. Jennifer merely enjoyed his company for the entire joyous night. In the morning when she woke, she dismissed it as a post traumatic hallucination, like mistaking the police officer guarding the front door for him. She had stared so often at his picture from the newspaper clipping, it was no wonder she had started to find him in a place that didn't exist.

They had had a palatable connection at first sight across the service elevator floor, a shy, appreciative look and warm smile. She remembered her heart skipping a beat. Jennifer thought her time stuck in an elevator with Clay Martin had been memorable, but the night spent talking with Alex was another level entirely, their own secret world.

A soft touch against her as he grabbed another cigar, leaning closer towards her before the gun was uncovered, it was all so perfect. Jennifer cursed the moment the real estate mogul brought out the deadly weapon. If Clay had never even shown them the Luger, they would have talked and smoked all night, bidding each other a warm farewell as the sun rose above the buildings and doves cooed in alleyways. Maybe she and Alex would have exchanged phone numbers, making plans to see each other again.

She only saw him in one place now.

The dreams continued on. One time she dreamt that it was Alex and she that were stuck in an elevator together instead of his dark haired roommate. They spoke of wanderlust and unfulfilled promises. Sometimes they're sitting on the same back patio re-enacting that magical night where she had first heard his life story. No matter where she was, she always felt special in his presence.

Jennifer knew she'd gone insane when she begged off early to rest, abandoning Cookie on a girls' night out. The redhead looked forward more to getting to bed than trolling the bars for guys; it was the only way she could see him.

That night he held her in his arms whispering in her ear, "Some roads are shorter than others, but I want the people I left behind to know what's in my heart."

Those were the words that Monica said to her as she cradled a dying man. Jennifer thought Alex meant his mother and made it her mission to visit her often. The older woman had no other surviving relatives.

"Alex would have liked you," his mother told Jennifer, once, at suppertime.

The redhead frowned at the statement. She remembered Alex's girlfriend, well, ex-girlfriend after his impromptu eight month trip - a sophisticated beauty, dark of hair with an eye for the camera. She was nothing like her. Jennifer was an awkward, hot-tempered nobody with little ambition. She had flitted between occupations before attempting journalism, and she probably did so only because of Cookie. Perhaps it was a mother's wishful thinking, of a future her son could never have.

Jennifer spied his trophy for first place at a spelling bee on a shelf filled with his other knick-knacks.

His mother beamed, "Alex was so proud the day he won that."

The younger woman nodded remarking offhand, "Yes, the word was 'serviceable,' and the only way he remembered was from the book he read it from."

Alex's mother gave her a strange glance, "Yes, that's right. How did you know?"

"Oh, Alex told me," Jennifer stammered out an excuse. He had told her but never in real life.

She wrote an article on him after asking his mother (and his) for permission. The budding reporter's depiction of their sudden meeting, goodbyes never made, and his final moments in her arms landed her a job at the magazine. His mother cried as she read it.

"It's as if he told you his version of events in person!" she exclaimed.

He had, Jennifer thought. She had even overslept the next morning because they had talked so long in the dream-state.

It was not always the past they spoke about. After a night of panicked searching, and several missing hours of precious sleep, he revealed where the employees' checks were after Cookie had foolishly misplaced them.

Jennifer hated that she used him for such a mundane task, but he merely smiled at her, "It gives me something to do while I wait."

"Wait for what?"

He never said, but he always mentioned waiting for something. She didn't question him or ask about the afterlife. She was just happy to still be able to see him. If not, she would've probably forgotten what he looked like, only an old newspaper article for her to know it wasn't a dream. She never wanted to forget him.

Years passed, she worked her way up the ladder. Now she's the magazine's head editor sending reporters scurrying for their next article. There were wisps of grey in her red hair now, but she's always young when she dreamed of Alex.

His mother passed away quietly with Jennifer at her side.

"I'll finally get to see Alex," his mother sighed as she looked at the beautiful yellow roses the younger woman brought at her bedside.

Jennifer struggled not to show any guilt on her face. She'd seen her son nearly every night since the accident.

That night Alex came to her a little teary-eyed but happy.

"Mother said thank you for everything." He wrapped her up in a loving embrace.

Jennifer sighed with relief as she rested her head against his shoulder. The woman and her son had been reunited, but most importantly he was still coming to see her. Every night she feared he might stop visiting her.

His mother's will had Jennifer inheriting all of the woman's possessions – including Alex's. She found it strange to live in their house, but she took most of the keepsakes and sold the quaint home. She spent that night going over the treasures with the man as they laughed over his childhood photos.

More time passed and she was retired now. She still wrote articles but this time it was for online news websites. Jennifer could work from home without having to drive far, which was good news on her aching joints. She never married, never met anyone who was like the man of her dreams. Tonight she slept earlier than usual, a persistent headache having plagued her for a week. Cookie promised to take her to see a doctor tomorrow, but really Jennifer thought her friend was excited to tell her about her newest grandchild. Her lifelong companion had latched onto a decent guy years ago and never let go. Her large brood was a testament to that.

A soft glowing light filled the room, "Alex," she whispered. Jennifer didn't realize she had fallen asleep. As always, he appeared just as when she had met him, young and with a shy smile.

To her surprise, Monica placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, the angel too never having aged a day.

"Your headaches were an aneurysm," the woman's Irish accent broke the news gently. "Cookie will find you in bed tomorrow, but you won't be here. You're finally coming home. Alex volunteered to show you the way."

Jennifer met his ecstatic look and leapt into his arms letting the years fall off her like so many sorrows. He felt more real now with his arms embracing her than in the dreams or even if they had touched when he was alive. The world after death was like that.

He kissed her sweetly wiping her tears with gentle hands. "You were wrong, you know. You told Monica that I would have left the party if you never gave me the Sarsaparilla. I made the choice to stay the moment I walked through the doors and saw you standing at the elevator."

Jennifer understood now.

"You were waiting for me weren't you? I loved you from the first moment I saw you too. You can stop waiting, Alex. I'm here, and we'll never be apart again."

* * *

 _This is my favorite story I've written so far. This episode had the bad cop over acting way too much. After she remembers the truth he just dismisses her like he knew that was the story all along. How Alex died was very idiotic. Who keeps a loaded antique gun? "I'll finally get to see Alex" is similar to Dimaggio's "I'll finally get to see Marilyn [Monroe]" last words. So sad to not see Andrew as the Angel of Death but it was a nice statement Tess made that a caseworker should know what the experience is like. I really enjoyed this episode even with it's flowery hopes and dreams discussion. Maybe it's because of the potential for a love story. I could have imagined a lot of possibilities had Alex lived._


	26. Beautiful Dreamer

Chapter 26

Beautiful Dreamer

Calvin does not become the 50th president of the United States. He has neither the wealthy background of the previous occupiers of that esteemed office, nor his hero, Lincoln's never ending perseverance despite humble beginnings. No wonder why it was easy for the boy to make that logical leap to be a hit-man after playing desensitizing video games after school. Men in video games and movies wielded AK-47's, sniped people from rooftops, and ended up wealthy and living on picturesque beaches.

Life was not a video game and such violent actions begat violent consequences.

Growing up in Washington DC had that effect. Crime rate was high, gun shots rang in the night. Killing someone meant most likely being put into prison for the rest of one's life. It was not a worthwhile or honorable profession, yet many of his high school peers got roped into the gang life. Calvin stayed away, mostly in fear of his mother's wrath. He could see that the youths who pulled the trigger only ended up with haunted faces and empty souls.

He wanted to change that.

Working with a local pastor, and another teenager who lost his father and brother to gang life, Calvin set up an after school program encouraging basketball, soccer, and other team sports. He especially steered those troubled youths away from idealizing a cruel profession like he had done. Many had unhappy childhoods such as his - a single income household, a stressed mother, and no father in sight. They all had put more faith into video games or gangs than they had in themselves or in God.

Calvin spoke to the others about dreamers who wanted better things in their future. Not just having money, fast cars, or even food on the table, but the visionaries who wanted to better the world like Lincoln and another hero, Martin Luther King Jr. Both men sacrificed their lives for their vision. Surely the youths could give up an afternoon to hear the message of peace instead of violence.

He put his history classes to good use saying that the Twenty Sixth Amendment allowed everyone an opportunity to cast a ballot based on age as soon as they graduated from high school. Not only were they considered adults, but they had a voice in electing the next leader of their nation. The color of their skin was also symbolic. Jim Crow laws prevented him and many others from even entering a polling place a mere 150 years ago.

Calvin felt like he was speaking on deaf ears. He needed the force of an angry angel like what happened to him all those years ago to snap some sense into the kids, but as saw the 44th president of the United States, the first African-American, being sworn into the highest of offices, it gave him hope that he and all those around him could still reach that mountaintop.

* * *

 _This was was really emotional, especially when Monica reached out and touched the old man's tears._


	27. Indigo Angel 1

Chapter 27

Indigo Blue 1

Isaac glanced around at the newly renovated Club Indigo, the soft crooning of a saxophone playing on a record player. No longer a worn down music club, the establishment was now a testament to jazz, soul, and R&B. It was a hard fought battle though. His grandfather's hoard of memorabilia was poorly kept. Signed records worth thousands were damaged by cellar mice nibbling on corners. Instruments with an inch thick layer of dust were crammed in every nook and crevice of the basement. Still he did not lose hope.

He applied for the club to be declared a historical landmark. It was certainly older than 50 years, his grandfather hadn't had the money to change any of the original fixtures, and the property certainly was associated with the most famous of musicians. The grandson took a loan out in his own name to fix some cracking floors and to keep the lights on a little longer. If he could get a few people a week to see his grandfather's pride and joy, the newly dedicated Sam Brown Blues Museum could remain open.

He should have been a better grandson to the man that practically raised him. His parents couldn't take care of him, so they foisted him on Sam Brown instead. His grandmother left her husband due to his obsession with the club. She probably hated that Isaac had been sucked into the black hole now, but Grandmother had never been there when the club reverberated with the beat of a swinging jazz band or dead silent at a lamenting blues piece. That music was a magic that gripped your heart and never let you forget it.

Isaac hoped he can give others that same feeling.

The young man placed a few eye catching pieces high on the walls of the building. He asked B.B. King, Dr. John, and Al Hirt to re-sign some of their records.

"Of course we'll do it, Isaac, no charge. Your grandfather would have wanted to keep the place open."

He was grateful that they still spoke so lovingly of his grandfather. A surprising number of musicians showed up for his funeral. Like the supposed last night at Club Indigo, the somberness of the ceremony was punctuated by humor. Each player claimed to be Sam's favorite.

Everyone knew that Isaac was in truth the old man's favorite. He always spoke of his grandson and loved him with all of his heart.

Al Jarreau clapped Isaac on the back. "Your grandfather would be proud that you would be the one to carry on his legacy but…" he dropped his voice to a whisper, "Don't let that old place stop you from being happy with a family. Sam always regretted that he let your grandmother get away from him."

Isaac nodded solemnly. He reached out to his grandmother after her husband's passing. She came to him after the funeral to bid the man a private farewell. She knew of Sam's love for the blues and music, but she never understood. She voiced her extreme displeasure when she knew Isaac was following in his grandfather's footsteps.

"It's different Grandma. I've crunched the numbers. I know what will work and what won't."

Government subsidies as a historically significant site and donations from the musician's union kept the old building standing. Revenue from the building acting as a museum allowed the establishment to continue as long as there was someone willing to be its caretaker.

And Isaac would be that man.

He hummed an old jazz standard as he fiddled with the sconce that always turned itself upside-down on the wall. Already through word of mouth more and more people were visiting the venue. He already re-started open mic night on Mondays, and he looked forward to hearing the Blues on Tuesday. Still, he sent a little prayer to God and the Countess. The angel had saved the club twice before, a third time wouldn't hurt. Her instructions for Sam to stay put no matter the financial difficulties irked the grandson. Why place such a burden on one man for no significant reason?

A young boy with wide blue eyes walked through the front entrance taking in the artwork and collectables with delight. An older man, his grandfather perhaps, followed sedately behind. The swirl of a saxophone trill escaped through the open door.

"Wow, what a cool place!"

Isaac's mouth dropped open in astonishment. Maybe his grandfather's purpose was not in vain like he thought.


	28. Indigo Angel 2

Chapter 28

Indigo Angel 2

Al Jarreau clapped Isaac on the back. "Your grandfather would be proud that you would be the one to carry on his legacy but…" he dropped his voice to a whisper, "Don't let that old place stop you from being happy with a family. Sam always regretted that he let your grandmother get away from him."

Isaac nodded solemnly. The music was an addiction worse than any drug habit. For a moment he hated the Countess for enabling his grandfather's problem, but the older man had always been happy hearing a jazzy clarinet trill on the record player. The grandson looked around the old building.

This place was worth the hard work.

A beautiful woman near his age with wide blue eyes walked through the front entrance taking in the artwork and collectables with delight. An older man, her father perhaps, followed sedately behind. The swirl of a saxophone riff escaped through the open door.

"Wow, what a cool place!"

Isaac's mouth dropped open in astonishment. Maybe God's plan didn't include only his grandfather.

* * *

 _Della Reese had an amazing song in this episode. May she rest in peace._


	29. Crisis of Faith 1

Chapter 29

Crisis of Faith 1

Karen Gregg wept bitterly as she recovered from her injuries after the car accident.

It was all her fault!

If she hadn't tried to take the pills, Luke would be back at the center posing for pictures for that pushy reporter's news article. If she hadn't stolen the money, her friend would have never walked her home, and never needed to be in a car in the first place. He would still be alive.

The week after the crash, she was in a haze of depression ignoring her domineering father's edict that they be the first family to pay their respects to Pastor Daniel Brewer's household. Couldn't the man see that the pastor needed a time to mourn? No one should have to endure her father's personality any more than they should. She could barely stand it.

Karen wanted to run away. She was 16, she could make it out of the state and work odd jobs to rent a small efficiency apartment. The girl would just have to last two years before she could be considered an adult and out of the brute's household. The man didn't even deserve to be called father. She could raise her child on her own.

Luke, he had the best father. A kind and gentle man, Pastor Brewer always had a willing ear for any troubled person. It was inconsiderate of her to want his attention when so many people – a big time reporter, his wife, other members of his parish – clamored for his attention. She was just a quiet whisper in a shouting mass of people.

After their heartfelt revelation on the snowy rooftop, Karen thought everything would be alright after Luke's father made his emotional sermon extolling God's mercy. Maybe her father would act the same.

He didn't.

Mr. Gregg, his domineering authority challenged by his only daughter getting pregnant out of marriage, believed she was an affront to his moral standing in the city.

"You are not my daughter anymore," the man coldly hissed.

With that edict, one of the many her father had made, he remorselessly kicked her out of the only home she had ever known.

Karen was devastated, but the good shepherd was always there to tend to his flock. He welcomed her into his own.

"We certainly have the room now," his wife mournfully commented.

The husband and wife shared a mutual look of commiseration. He had spoken to her about Monica's revelation, how there were angels all around them that day.

Gloria Brewer gasped, "God knew this was going to happen to us! He sent angels to us, to help us through our heartache."

"And to guide me back on the right path," Pastor Brewer acknowledged. He shuddered to think what would have happened if the red haired angel was not there to reinvigorate his spirit. The man would have abandoned everything, not only losing his son, but most likely his church, his wife, and his eventually his own life.

The older couple was a balm to the young teen as she moved in and pondered her choices - to keep the baby, give it up for adoption, or terminate it during the early stage. She prayed and consulted with others in her situation. Hers was not the first story.

She decided to keep her child. The father wanted nothing to do with it, and her own father too still refused to acknowledge her.

Daniel and Gloria Brewer quietly converted Luke's bedroom into a nursery, finding a crib and bassinet from donations from the congregation. If a manger was good enough for their Lord, then a second hand crib was fine for the trio.

It was a miracle she held in her arms. A red-faced screaming miracle, but one just the same. Karen nearly despaired during the midnight feedings and teething tantrums, but she made it through thanks to the older couple's aid. They were more her parents than her real ones.

Her son grew quickly and to her delight, the kindly couple was still there to help her raise him even as their bodies grew older. Karen passed her high school courses, even obtained her Bachelor's in social work, not in accounting as her father dictated so many years ago. She proudly gave a portion of her first paycheck to the Brewers in thanks for their compassion.

Pastor Brewer shook his head as he grudgingly accepted her offering. He didn't tell her that the money they had saved for Luke's college education was now dedicated to her son's. The man's baritone voice was still strong, despite the years tolling on him, "Helping you raise your son was like seeing Luke again."

Karen could see that now as she saw the man gently coach her son on his stance and the best angle to arc the basketball to make a free throw. The teen center was still going strong all these years later. So many youths had been helped since it first opened that fateful day.

The man, mother, and child could not see another heavenly trio watching them with joy a little ways off the court. The handsome man who escorted the souls of the dead to the afterlife gave the red-haired woman with a childlike exuberance a look of divine happiness. The motherly angel let out a big belly laugh, "See angel babies, I told you that the good Lord would provide him with a matchup, and what a blessed one-on-one game it looks like it's going to be."

The pastor cheered with delight as Karen's son successfully made his first basket.


	30. Crisis of Faith 2

Chapter 30

Crisis of Faith 2

"What do you do when the person who you saved the best part of your life for is no longer there?"

Kelly Monroe had been angling for a story, and she had assumed she had it with Pastor Brewer and his new teen center. At first, all it consisted of was a feel good puff piece that would get buried between the obituaries and want-ads. She needed sensation. She tried to needle the good hearted shepherd asking if his new facility was merely a ploy to get more parishioners in their pews, and therefore more money into his own pocket, but alas no such luck. She did find, for a man of God, the preacher sure had a bite as he let loose his temper at her accusation.

It was even better when she found out the man's own son was missing. She could picture the headline now, "Beloved community pastor neglects his own son." The scandal would rocket her article to the front pages.

She couldn't have expected what had happened next. Not only did the pastor storm off the fetch his wayward son, but he was involved in a terrible car accident that killed the driver of the other car. The driver's identity? His own flesh and blood, his beloved son.

Oh what a juicy headline she had now! Kelly Monroe would get her byline in the paper in the biggest typeset she could find. She had thought the preacher would be a no show to his own son's funeral, the reporter blending in with the others in her simple black dress. There was talk of his instability and rumors that he would leave the church. What man could go on after losing his only son?

A hint of remorse bit at her. It was her article that the man was so adamant that his whole family be present for, and her pushiness didn't help with his stress levels. Kelly tried to justify that Pastor Brewer could have canceled the article. Sure she would have posted something unseemly, but the news was news. The man's sermon on forgiveness and mercy further unsettled her.

With the revelation that the young son was counseling a girl out of suicide, and the same reason for the father's tardiness to the funeral, the journalist was resolved.

A proper article, unbiased towards any evil. A new teen center opened by a loving pastor, its opening day marred by tragedy, but there was still some good that came out of the terrible day – a life had been saved.

It was what Luke would have wanted her to do.


	31. Crisis of Faith 3

Chapter 31

Crisis of Faith 3

Karen Gregg openly sobbed as she clutched the note with shaking fingers. She had found it in Luke's keepsake box, a memento the Brewers couldn't stand to pack away in the attic. They had given it to her, his dearest friend.

"We've been best friends for the last 5 years. Now, let's be lovers for the next 50."

* * *

 _This quote is attributed to Trish N from California at the Love – Gives Me Hope website._


End file.
